A stone pelted the side of Wells’ head, knocking him to the ground. He landed unsteadily on one knee and shook his head to clear his thoughts before cradling his bruised face in both his hands.
“We gave you food and clothing. We tended your wounds, and still, you threaten us,” Callof declared indignantly as he marched to Wells’ side.
“Not you,” Wells mumbled. “Her. Raedwald.”
“She is my brother’s One,” Callof corrected. “She is our family. You will speak to her respectfully.”
“Why are you so angry with me?” Olivia asked, peering around Ciph’s legs. “What have I done to you?”
“You set off explosives to bury the entrances to the food stores,” Wells cried out, his anger having faded to despair. “You couldn’t take it with you, but wouldn’t let the people left behind have it either.”
“I didn’t bury anyone’s food,” she objected. “I encountered one such situation far south of here and arrested the gaolers who did it. We used surface-to-air blast throwers to reopen the cellar. Contrary to my uncle's instructions, I accepted everyone, regardless of their ability to pay. If there was room, I took them. I even had the military prepare the flagship’s corridors so people would at least have places to sleep. Anyone else whom I couldn’t physically transport was to be left with provisions and shelter. We were on the last shuttle trip I could possibly make when we crashed.”
“You are a Raedwald,” Wells said as he leaned back to rest on the ground and removed his hands from his face. He shook his head and winced. “That makes it your responsibility.”
“Tell us what happened,” Callof demanded. “From the beginning. Clearly and simply.”
“I was a prisoner for years,” Wells said, emphasizing each word. “I…I didn’t do anything wrong. What happened is I got the winning bid against Raedwald to purchase a company that had developed a better, easier suspended animation for space travel.”
“Raedwald Suspension,” Olivia muttered. Ciph sat back down beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders in support. “I remember when that company was launched. I was seven years old. It was my first formal ceremony, and I wore my first designer dress. They expected me to break a bottle of champagne against the wall of the suspension terminal before its first customers entered, like the christening of a ship, but I wasn’t strong enough. The crowd laughed at me. My uncle waved at them to wait, then as they cheered, he stepped up behind me and helped me smash the bottle.” She paused to think about the past, before adding, “During his speech, my uncle claimed he bought the company not only to help the desperate developers but also to honor you. He said that he knew you would have done the same had he been the one in the accident.”
“You were seven years old? How long ago was that?” Wells asked.
“Sixteen years,” Olivia replied reluctantly.
“Sixteen years. Why didn’t Raedwald just kill me?” Wells remarked despondently. He rubbed his face again and continued, “All of us where I was held are prisoners of conscience. None of us are criminals. Strangely, six dimmings ago Director Wyatt Brenhus said I’d served my time and was free. Free. What is freedom when there’s no way to get home?”
“Back to Earth?” Callof asked.
“Yes, the only ones ever able to go home could afford to purchase expensive boarding tickets or have enough money to bribe the shuttle commanders,” Wells answered. “I had neither. I’m still angry that we weren’t seen as worthwhile enough to save. Raedwald arranged for them to take the bosses, gaolers, scientists, rich people, landowners —”
“There aren’t any landowners,” Olivia objected. “My uncle believes everyone deserves shelter and that land can’t be owned.”
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“Humph,” Wells reacted. “Maybe he told you that.”
“Be respectful. Olivia did not cause your problem,” Callof warned, as he conspicuously swung his empty sling launcher. Wells blinked. Callof directed, “Continue.”
“They left people locked in the cages and even with all of us working together we can’t get them open,” Wells concluded. “When I headed out again two days ago, they were still alive. Please help us.”
Callof turned his back to Wells and paced for several meters. When he met Olivia’s eyes inquiringly, she nodded. When he looked at his brother, Ciph shook his head. Olivia took Ciph’s hand in hers and squeezed it. He sighed and beseeched, “Ol, this doesn’t sound safe. You’ll be in danger. Please don’t go.”
“I have to,” she replied. He tilted his head pensively. “Callof is right when he says that I didn’t cause any of this, but Wells is also right. You read the documents when you were caring for me. It’s my planet.” He pursed his lips, so she repeated, “I have to.” She pulled her injured arm into her lap and dropped her head before she added as if in defeat, “Why did I have to live and not the others? Why didn’t I die, too? I thought this was my opportunity to show what I could do for the Raedwald businesses. My big chance to prove to my uncle how capable I am. I had no idea how cruel this mission would turn out to be.”
“The Survivor needs to rest,” The healer said directly to Callof as she narrowed her eyes. “She cannot rescue anyone else when she is so badly hurt herself.”
Olivia raised her head and insisted, “I have to.”
She leaned against Ciph, hoping for his warmth and support. He draped his arm around her shoulder.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” the healer relented. “Let me see how you are at First Sun.”
“No one needs to go if they don’t wish to,” Callof said with a glance at Jaicn. “This is not a problem we created, and it is not ours to fix. We will help if we can, but that is all.” Callof caught Ciph’s eye and added, “I’ll help you carry her in a sling chair if you want to go. There is no reason for us to help any of the Earth humans, but I will go with you if that’s what you decide.”
©2022 Vera S Scott
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