Falling Free

The light from the filtered windows plucked insistently at her attention, and she paused for the fourth or fifth time this shift to weave among the grow tubes and stare out at the portion of Rodeo this bay’s angle of view allowed her to see. Somewhere down there, at the bottom of that well of air, Claire and Tony were crawling now—if they had not already surrendered—or managed to make it to another shuttle—or met some horrible catastrophe… Silver’s imagination, unbidden, supplied her with a string of sample catastrophes.

She tried to crowd them out with a firm mental picture of Tony and Claire and Andy successfully sneaking onto a shuttle bound for the Transfer Station, but the picture wavered into a scenario of Claire, attempting to jump some gap to the shuttle’s hatchway (what gap? from where, for pity’s sake?) forgetting that all such tangents were bent to parabolas by the gravitational force, and missing the target. Silver thought of the peculiar ways things moved in dense gravitational fields. The scream, chopped off by the splat on the concrete below—no, surely Claire would be holding Andy—the double splat on the concrete below… Silver kneaded her forehead with the heels of her upper hands, as if she might physically press the grisly vision back out of her brain. Claire had seen the same vids of life downside, surely she’d remember.

The hiss of the airseal doors twitched Silver back to present reality. Better look busy—what was she supposed to be doing next? Oh, yes, cleaning used grow tubes, in preparation for their placement day after tomorrow in the new bay they were building to show off everybody’s skills to the Ops VP. Damn the Ops VP. But for her, there’d be a chance Tony and Claire might go un-missed for two shifts, even three. Now…

Her heart shrank, as she saw who had entered the hydroponics bay. Now, indeed.

Ordinarily, Silver would have been glad to see Leo. He seemed a big, clean man—no, not large, but solid somehow, full of a prosaic calmness that spilled over in the very scent of him, reminiscent of downsider things Silver had chanced to handle, wood and leather and certain dried herbs. In the light of his slow smile, ghastly scenarios thinned to mist. She might yet be glad to talk to Leo…

He was not smiling now. “Silver…? You in here?”

For a wild moment Silver considered trying to hide among the grow tubes, but the foliage rustled as she turned, giving away her position. She peeked over the leaves. “Uh… hi, Leo.”

“Have you seen Tony or Claire lately?” Trust Leo to be direct. Call me Leo, he’d told her the first time she’d “Mr. Grafd” him. It’s shorter. He drifted over to the grow tubes; they regarded each other across a barrier of bush beans.

“I haven’t seen anybody but my supervisor all shift,” said Silver, momentarily relieved to be able to give a perfectly honest answer.

“When did you last see either one of them?”

“Oh—last shift, I guess.” Silver tossed her head airily.

“Where?”

“Uh… around.” She giggled vacuously. Mr. Van Atta might have flung up his hands in disgust at this point, and abandoned any attempt to wring sense from so empty a head as hers.

Leo frowned at her thoughtfully. “You know, one of the charms of you kids is the literal precision with which you answer any question.”

The comment hung in air expectantly, as Leo did. The picture of Tony, Claire, and Andy scooting across the shuttle loading bay flashed in Silver’s mind with hallucinatory clarity. She groped in memory for their prior meeting, where the final plans had been laid, to offer up as a half-truth. “We had the mid-shift meal together last shift at Nutrition Station Seven.”

Leo’s lips quirked. “I see.” He tilted his head, studying her as if she were some puzzle, such as two metallurgically incompatible surfaces he had to figure out how to join.

“You know, I just heard about Claire’s new, ah, reproduction assignment. I’d wondered what was bothering Tony the last few weeks. He was pretty broken up about it, eh? Pretty… distraught.”

“They’d had plans,” Silver began, caught herself, shrugged casually. “I don’t know. I’d be glad to get any reproduction assignment. There’s no pleasing some people.”

Leo’s face grew stern. “Silver—just how distraught were they? Kids often mistake a temporary problem for the end of the world, they have no sense of the fullness of time. Makes ‘em excitable. Think they might have been upset enough to do something… desperate?”

“Desperate?” Silver smiled rather desperately herself.

“Like a suicide pact or something?”

“Oh, no!” said Silver, shocked. “Oh, they’d never do anything like that.”

Did relief flash for a moment in Leo’s brown eyes? No, his face puckered in intensified concern.

“That’s just what I’m afraid they might have done. Tony didn’t show up for his work shift, and that’s unheard of; Andy’s gone too. They can’t be found. If they felt so desperate—trapped—what could be easier than slipping out an airlock? A flash of cold, a moment’s pain, and then—escape forever.” His single pair of hands clasped earnestly. “And it’s all my fault. I should have been more perceptive—said something…” He paused, looking at her hopefully.

“Oh, no, it was nothing like that!” Silver, horrified, hastened to dissuade him. “How awful for you to think that. Look…” She glanced around the hydroponics bay, lowered her voice. “Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but I can’t let you go around thinking—thinking those fearful things.” She had his entire attention, grave and intent. How much dare she tell him? Some suitably edited reassurance… “Tony and Claire—”

“Silver!” Dr. Yei’s voice rang out as the airseal doors slid open. Echoed by Van Atta’s bellow, “Silver, what do you know about all this?”

“Aw, shit,” Leo snarled under his breath. His piously clasped hands clenched to fists of frustration.

Silver drew back in understanding and indignation. “You—!” And yet she almost laughed; Leo, so subtle and tricksy? She’d underestimated him. Did they both wear masks before the world, then? If so, what unknown territories did his bland face conceal?

“Please, Silver, before they get here—I can’t help you if…”

It was too late. Van Atta and Yei tumbled into the room.

“Silver, do you know where Tony and Claire have gone?” Dr. Yei demanded breathlessly. Leo drew back into reserved silence, appearing to take an interest in the fine structure of the white bean blossoms.

“Of course she knows,” Van Atta snapped, before Silver could reply. “Those girls are in each others’ pockets, I tell you—”

“Oh, I know,” Yei muttered.

Van Atta turned sternly to Silver. “Cough it up, Silver, if you know what’s good for you.”

Silver’s lips closed, firmed into a line; her chin lifted.

Dr. Yei rolled her eyes at her superior’s back. “Now, Silver,” she began placatingly, “this isn’t a good time for games. If, as we suspect, Tony and Claire have tried to leave the Habitat, they could be in very serious trouble by now, even physical danger. I’m pleased that you feel you should be loyal to your friends, but I beg you, make it a responsible loyalty—friends don’t let friends get hurt.”

Silver’s eyes puddled in doubt; her lips parted, inhaling for speech.

“Damn it,” cried Van Atta, “I don’t have time to stand around sweet-talking this little cunt. That snake-eyed bitch that runs Ops is waiting up there right now for the show to go on. She’s starting to ask questions, and if she doesn’t get the answers pronto she’ll come looking for ‘em herself. That one plays hardball. Of all the times to pick for this outbreak of idiocy, this has gotta be the worst possible. It’s got to be deliberate. Nothing this fouled up could be by chance.”

His red-faced rage was having its usual effect on Silver; her belly trembled, her vision blurred with unshed tears. She had once felt she would give him anything, do anything at all, if only he would calm down and smile and joke again.

But not this time. Her initial awed infatuation with him had been emptied out of her, bit by bit, and it startled her to, realize how little was left. A hollowed shell could be rigid and strong… “You,” she whispered, “can’t make me say anything.”

“Just as I thought,” snarled Van Atta. “Where’s your total socialization now, Dr. Yei?”

“If you would,” said Dr. Yei through her teeth, “kindly refrain from teaching my subjects anti-social behavior, you wouldn’t have to deal with its consequences.”