FORTY-FIVE

Six Days Later

Director Yuri Kasperov cleared his throat. Citizens Park was filled beyond capacity while most others in De Milo watched via a live broadcast.

“I have been advised that a powerful First field, engineered by Doctor Prometheus and his team, will be sufficient to save De Milo from the solar event.” He waited for the cheers to die down. “There will be a price. Generating and maintaining the field for the time required will strain the systems that make life possible here. The event itself will likely strip away the atmospheric blanket that helps maintain the temperature inside the caves. It will grow colder. We will be uncomfortable. Survival in De Milo will be more difficult.”

After Kasperov’s address, his science adviser, a member of the task force, took to the podium to answer questions from the media and assorted representatives.

Brooklyn leaned against a wall backstage. “This change your mind about telling everyone?”

Milk shook her head. “Based on the numbers I’ve seen, we can absorb another five hundred thousand refugees without trying hard, and there’s no way that many will make it here in time. I just wish there was something else we could do.”

“Read up on survivor’s guilt.” He humped himself off the wall. “Guess I’m headed for the Moon. See ya when I get back.”

“Assuming you’re coming back.” Her eyes widened. “I half expected you to say you were going to the Artiplanet.”

“Andy’s ships will be here in a couple of days. Says any Designed wants to head that way can hop on.” He pulled a face. “Artiplanet’s already headed out to the Belt to crack some rocks open for materials they need. Not really my scene.”

“I just thought that…” She gestured. “You and her.”

“True love always?” His smile was sad. “Brain says I only knew her a few weeks twenty years ago. Means I’m glad she’s gonna be okay, there’s some sweetness there, but I got fresh bread with somebody else. That make sense?”

“As much as any of this does.” She shoved him gently. “Go, so you can get back in time. Living in a cold, dim cave won’t be the same without you.”

“I’ll try to grab you some of that gin you like. Be a collector’s item before too long.”

Brooklyn stopped at The Mush Room for a prelaunch meal. There was plenty of parking. Lots of folks were downtown, standing in line for the public comms in hopes of reaching family on Earth and getting them to safety.

Brooklyn parked his rental up behind a VW Beetle conversion. It had made it from Earth without a front end, and the salvager had replaced the domed hood with the engine compartment of a John Deere tractor.

Most of the city’s rolling stock was pedal-powered or simple electrics charged off De Milo’s dome-rated mini-reactors. Car theft hadn’t been imported yet, so the rental had an on/off switch instead of a key. Brooklyn flipped it to ‘off’ and went inside for a quick beers-and-mushroom-burger dinner.

“Quiet in here.” He slid onto one of the many empty barstools.

“Tell me about it.” The bartender pulled him a pint. “Even before all the Sun shit, lotta folks were staying home, dicking around with those things the church handed out.”

“The circle things?”

The barman dropped a coaster on the bar and sat the glass right in the middle. “Good if you don’t like real life, I guess. I got enough out here to keep me occupied without pretending to be someone else.”

Beth the CIA spook came into the bar with a backpack on her shoulder. “They’re called ‘sensorum’. Andy spotted one yesterday.”

Brooklyn slapped the bar. “That’s it! Been bugging me for weeks. Way back when, she told me the First got hooked on somethin’ called sensorum after they moved down here. They barely survived the first thousand years.”

“That’s the one.” Beth slid onto a nearby stool and ordered a beer. “She said they died by the thousands. Living somewhere better in their heads and forgetting to eat, drink. They just gave up on reality.”

“Can see how that might beat sitting in the dark.” He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck! Ever notice how nothin’ stays fixed? Survive the Sun, we got a drug problem ta deal with. Kas is gonna be thrilled.”

Beth drank some beer, made a face. “I need to get back to Earth, and a little bird told me you’re about to go to the Moon. Can I get a ride?

Never fly empty. He quoted her the price. “Leavin’ right after I fill Kas in.”

The Victory shot out of the mouth of the tunnel and clawed free of the planet’s gravity well. Beth had the whole bunkroom to herself. The CIA was most likely paying her way, so Brooklyn had no problem overcharging her.

Most of De Milo’s merchant fleet was parked at the space station or heading there, its captains meeting on what to do. Only a couple of months to pull people off Earth, Mars, and the Moon, and no way in hell to get everybody. Act out of altruism, self-interest, or some combo. Pick up Uncle John and Aunt Bobbi and give them a ride to safety, and maybe have to leave all their neighbors behind. Shitty choices abounded.

Carmen will want to get her kids out. The Fox’s family should be in De Milo or aboard the Foundling by now. Imagine they’ll try ta fly out a few more.

Om cut in on his thoughts. “I have a message from your former copilot, Float. She thanks you for the message and says her people have retrieved their fleet from the Trench. They will be leaving Earth shortly.”

“Look at all o’ us rats.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his acceleration couch. “Word will beat us to the Moon. Probably oughta have Evelyn meet us somewhere sneaky.”