I wake up Friday morning a little hungover. It’s nothing like that morning on Orashi but bad enough to require aspirin and a few hours on the couch. I use the time to catch up with the news. Using the Tengying Corporation scandal as leverage, there’s a push by some fringe politicians to have the Corporate Independence Agreements revised. The Federation is running an overall deficit while corporate systems continue to be profitable. It’s garnering considerable resentment in the Federation but I’m not sure what can be done. Those systems paid for their independence and I think the legal term is “No Take-backs.”
Closer to home, there’s a lot of consternation about what the Colony Board’s conclusion will be next month. The consensus is that Dosi will be cut loose and left to waste away. Judging by local interviews, the average Dosian remains hopeful the system will endure but the economic and political heads are telling people to prepare for the worst.
I have the coming week off. As I flip between the major Federation broadcasts and Dosi’s single local feed, I realize that Noah is right. Boredom will quickly become a problem. I consider opening up the study material for Ophion or Prime but those dreams seem so far away right now. I page to the orbital Q-and-A channel and find information about travelling to Sahana’s surface. The images of the planet are breathtaking. Its environment is dry scrub with buttes and canyons bigger and deeper than anything I’ve seen before. I assumed the surface would be a featureless sandy desert but the sightseeing commercial shows rocky dirt and more vegetation than I thought possible for such an arid planet. Looking at the grand vistas, I can see a certain charm to a colonial life on Sahana. The tourism pitch ends with information for two contacts. Lilly Thompson is one of the names. I assume that’s Lilly from the cantina. She said something about being available to hire as a guide.
I send her a message. First I tell her who I am in case she doesn’t know. It’s possible that she knows my face but has forgotten my name. Then I ask if she still acts as a guide on Sahana. In the afternoon I receive her reply while I’m shopping for food at the general store. Lilly knows who I am and she still serves as a guide but her schedule at the cantina precludes her from going to the surface this week. Apparently, the cantina is busiest the week after receiving a resupply shipment. She offers me a few days next week along with information about shuttle rides between the orbital and planet.
I pay for my groceries and bring them back to my apartment. After everything is put away, I heat up some soup. As I eat, I reply to Lilly that I work the following week and I’ll try to book through her another time. Afterwards, I wash my bowl and spoon and put them back where they belong.
The weekend is quiet and relaxing. That sounds much better than lonely and boring. Though the idea crosses my mind more than once, I manage to avoid messaging Keeva. I’m still mad at her and she probably needs a break from me after spending last week in the cab holding my hand. Monday and Tuesday are no better but on Wednesday, I get a respite from the solitude when my household goods arrive and Sosipatra gets her terrarium back. Once she’s settled, I cook up bits of freeze-dried hamburger and sprinkle a few around the soil. Sosie is going to be busy tonight.
That same night, Curt invites me to dinner at Tanglefoot where I meet his wife and kids and have an enjoyable evening. The next morning, I spend time chatting with Marty. We end up going to lunch together and I learn the latest Karoo gossip about the Colony Board’s decision. It’s not looking good. The rumor mill says several local politicians have put their ranches up for sale.
When Friday morning arrives, I’m chomping at the bit to get back to work. The morning starts a seven-day stretch before I have another week off. Keeva calls this scheduling “Seven and Seven.” Of course, it’s another booze reference.
When I step into the cab, Curt is packing up his belongings. He waves over the control panel. “There’s nothing on scope and your first action will be a shuttle leaving for Karoo in fifteen minutes, followed by a freighter in two hours.” He rushes into the elevator. “I hate to run off but I’m supposed to be on that shuttle. My family’s waiting for me.”
He gives me a contrite look but I wave him off. “Go, Curt, and thanks again for dinner. You have a great family.”
“Later” is the last word I hear as the doors close in front of him. I sign into the system and plug in. Curt’s speedy relief briefing was accurate. Other than the shuttle, there’s nothing happening in the star system. I’ve exchanged a boring living room in my apartment for a boring room in the cab.
A dozen minutes later, Shuttle 8472-Delta requests permission to depart the station with a vector that will take it into Sahana’s atmosphere. I quickly clear the shuttle. Twenty minutes after that, I wish the pilot a good morning and hand him off to atmospheric control. I spend the next three hours perusing STC Prime materials while monitoring an outgoing freighter along the Roadrunner departure. I’m bouncing off the walls by noon.
I try making a list of things I can do while stuck in the cab and decide I need to create a game that will pass the time. Orbitals rarely have trash bins. Usually the receptacle is built into the wall and a system of ducts flow waste to recyclers. Lacking a trash bin, I add “baskets” to my list of necessities along with “lots of balls.” I spend the afternoon devising a game in which I will make progressively longer throws into a basket. Each basket position is named after an STC system, Levels 1 through 12. If I make the final shots from the far side of the room into “Prime,” I win.
My datapad chirps fifteen minutes before the end of my shift. It’s a note from Keeva asking me where I am. I’m a little irritated that I’ve missed her over the last week and any anger I felt when she told the bar about my failed relationship and reprimand has passed. I type back, “the alternate cab.”
She walks into the room ten minutes later. Faded jeans? Check, although these are snugger than usual. Casual top? Check, it’s a green sleeveless pleated blouse with a V-neck. It hangs alluringly on her. I’ve always appreciated the curves of a woman and there’s something to be said about bigger being better, especially up top. However, Keeva can certainly make what she was born with work well for her. Stop leering, Jake.
She’s smiling, of course, but it’s not the amused, Cheshire cat one I’m used to. In fact, Keeva’s smile looks sheepish. She drifts to the refrigerator and stows her dinner before taking a seat at the break table. Her voice is sedate. “I owe you an apology, Jake.” There’s no small talk, she begins hip deep in it. “I was having a great time at your welcoming party and got a little drunk. When I get like that, I lose a lot of my common sense.” She stares at the tabletop and it’s the most shame I’ve seen from her. “I’m sorry for saying what I said and for spilling my drink on you.”
“Most of it went on you,” I point out.
She’s picking at her thumb. I’m not sure she’s aware that she’s doing it. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry.”
I don’t like seeing her like this. I walk over to the table and sit across from her. I make sure we have eye contact. “I accept your apology. I’m glad you said something but let’s forget about it, okay?”
“Sure,” she sighs. I watch her rise and walk past me to the control panel. The curve of her backside looks just right in those jeans. Stop. Leering. Jake. She signs into the system. “My scope.”
I’m not sure if that means she wants me to leave or if she’s just being polite and letting me know I can go. I want to stay and talk to her. She’s the first person I’ve seen in eight hours but I err on the side of caution, sign out and bid her a good evening.
The weekend passes similarly to Friday. The only difference is I relieve Vicky in the mornings instead of Curt. I study until my eyes bleed and play my basket-toss game each day. When it becomes too easy, I add new rules like having to bank my shot off a wall first. By Monday, I realize this game will barely entertain me for the rest of the week let alone a year. That afternoon, I record a video to Nancy Flores. She should be home now. I ask her if she’s still seeing Deidre and tell her all about Dosi and the people I’ve met. Mostly, I speak of Keeva.
My favorite part of each day comes at the end of my shift but Keeva seems less like herself than when I first met her. On the other hand, maybe this is Regular Keeva and the first week was an aberration. She’s not distant but she’s certainly more subdued, at least around me. For all I know, she could be partying every minute of the day with the long list on her dance card. I know virtually nothing about her life except the judgments I’ve passed on her.
The big news of the week comes Wednesday. Noah sends a message to his staff soliciting volunteers to attend a Colony Development Conference in Karoo. He dares us to say that three times “real fast.” The STC representatives need to be prepared to answer questions about the state of Dosi’s starship traffic. He attached a summary that tells us everything we need to know but it can be summarized in a single word: bleak. The conference begins Friday and lasts into early next week although we need only be present Friday afternoon.
I jump at the opportunity. By this point, I’d do anything to get off the orbital even if it’s only for a day. That afternoon, Noah sends a second message thanking me for my initiative. He gives more details about the conference and a handsome per diem for expenses. Finally, he tells me to get in touch with the other STC rep to make travel plans. My stomach flips when I see that Keeva has volunteered. My mind’s eye sees her ice blue gaze framed by mahogany hair. I see the dimples in her cheeks form as she smiles and the way her lithesome body moves as she walks. In my lust-induced haze, it occurs to me that I’ve never definitively answered a fundamental question. Does Keeva have a boyfriend? I almost don’t want to know. Shit, I have a crush on Keeva. How has this happened so fast? Am I even ready for a girlfriend? Tey ripped my heart to pieces. I can admit that now. I decide that I’m not ready.
No, it’s better not to think about Keeva like this. She’s probably seeing someone anyway and she’s way too “free-spirited” for me even if she isn’t. Besides, we’re going in opposite directions and she’s not a long-term type of gal. Marty told me that she has guys lining up for her and even though I don’t blame them or her, I refuse to be just a checkmark. At least, I refuse to be hers. I’ve missed her all week more than I care to admit and if I let Keeva into my life in a deeper way, I’m afraid that I’ll be taken apart later. The safer option is to find a nice girl in Karoo. Someone fun and satisfying but no one who makes me break into a flop sweat just thinking about being dumped by her. This is for the best. This is the smart move. It’s proactive self-preservation. Don’t create your own emergency.
I consider withdrawing my name for the conference but it will make me look like a flake. Besides, maybe I can gain some ground on this Keeva thing. She can see me flirt with other women and know I’m not interested in her and then she can stop looking at me with those arctic blue eyes and cockeyed grins. Plus, it’ll be nice to flex the libido. It’s time to find a layup. This is going to work out just fine.