Approaching Oblivion (Jezebel's Ladder Book 4) (23 page)

Mercy
brushed her hair as she pondered so she’d look presentable when people asked
her questions. “Wait, do radio waves and silicon affect
mahdra
currents?”
That might explain why the tests kept sputtering out. Every time the observers
leaned in to check something or reported success, the experiment erupted in
blue smoke.

“You
have been given sufficient information to complete your task,” Snowflake said
mechanically. After a pause, it whispered, “Happy Birthday.”

Lou referred to the next
adventure as Baby Boot Camp, where Stewart trained his parents. The new parents
took a leave of absence for six weeks and moved to the Hollow. They had typical
camp chores but no astronaut duties. After Mercy dropped the bombshell about
how to make the shimmer armor work, the project experienced a surge of creative
breakthroughs and the other teams struggled to keep pace with the revised
schedules generated by a series of successful tests.

Every
time Yvette hinted about the Magi, Mercy would remind her of the gag order and
hum a different song about a mountain. Eventually, Yvette made a point of
talking about her renewed interest in hiking. By the time the nurse had to
spend more time on duties more pressing than mother and child, she had nothing
new to report about the Magi. Mercy considered learning Morse code to squeeze
out messages, but Yvette would never pick up on that. Lou might, but she
wouldn’t be able to use her hands because her fingernails linked directly to
Snowflake. Using any other body part on Lou would only inflame his lust.
We’ll
have years to communicate
, Mercy thought as she concentrated on her new
role as mother.

She
found an ancient Mayan design for an infant carrier—a wonderful invention
either parent could wear. They made a sling for Stu, and he rode on her front
as Mercy hung laundry out to dry. Although officially anything water-related
was Rachael’s duty, the life-support specialist was busy designing bomb
shelters in the canyons of Labyrinth. Johnny spent a lot of time teaching Mercy
and Pratibha how to cook using locally grown materials. Once the landing team
departed, someone would need to run the Hollow and send meals to Olympus. As mayor, Pratibha suddenly had too many responsibilities for one person. By
volunteering to help her, Mercy hoped to mend some fences. Every night at the
four o’clock feeding, she would make cinnamon rolls or other bread to rise, so others
could pop them in the oven at breakfast.

One
morning, a uniformed Oleander tapped on Mercy’s door in the caves.

Mercy
woke with a start and whispered, “What time is it?”

“March
third, 10:00 a.m.,” the tall, Nordic blonde said with a glance at her wrist.

“Stu
slept for six hours. Bless his soul.” She picked the baby up out of his bassinet
and showered kisses on him. “Who is the best boy in all the world?”

From
his side of the bed, Lou grunted, “He’s bloody tired,” and covered his head
with a pillow.

Latching
the baby on, Mercy said, “Let’s sit in the dayroom so we don’t wake Mr.
Cranky.”

Oleander’s
eyes bulged when she saw the size of Mercy’s breast. “You could feed a village
with those.”

“Tell
Toby he still owes me a bra. My old ones won’t fit. I keep growing past the end
of the size alphabet, like some adult version of that Dr. Seuss book.”

“Yeah,
mission priorities got in the way. Everyone on the crew is pushing for more
gear we’ll need for the first landing.”

“First?
There’s going to be more than one base?”

“No,
just the mesa. The river branches around the base and reforms on the other
side. It’s like a really tall island and ideal for our purposes. We get the radiation
shielding we need without having to guard our backs against the desert. That
stretch is so narrow and shaded that almost nothing lives near the mesa. Our
plateau sits just above cloud level, which will hide us from prying eyes.”

“Too
bad the name Olympus is taken. What are you going to call this base, Shangri-La?”

“Sojiro
lobbied for Bright Angel Lodge because that’s where he stayed on his trip to
the Grand Canyon. In the canyon-bus-stop theme, Red liked Powell Point, and
Toby voted for the Abyss. Everyone else wanted to pick a name that highlights
the secret nature of our mission. We’re still deadlocked between Langley and
Spook Central.”

Mercy
stroked her son as he fed. “How about Elysium—the island of the blessed in the
land of the dead? It’s where heroes and those favored by Zeus enjoy their
reward.”

“I’ll
suggest that at the next meeting,” Oleander promised.

“So
you’ll be making multiple landings at the same base?”

“The
first trip will be a scouting run and to cut some foundations into rock with
the COIL. We’ll plant a few explosives to shape the landscape and detonate them
during the next storm. The second trip will carry just the distillery and
construction materials for a spaceport. We found a cave system that’s almost
what we need. The Herkemers will rig a cool room with breathable air and a few
bunks while the eye in the sky and I keep watch. Then we’ll camouflage the
refinery on the plateau. The Zeisses will spend all this time waiting in
Sanctuary’s
landing bay. Once it makes enough fuel to replace what
Ascension
consumes on a run, Red will fly in the microfabricator, more people, and more
supplies. Nadia will rig us with renewable power, and Toby will begin work on
perimeter defenses. The fourth trip will be cargo for our first few Earth-months
as an outpost.”

During
the long speech, Mercy detached and burped her son. “This is too much information
for the assistant cook and chief bottle washer. I’ll be keeping the home fires
burning while you guys make all the history.”

“God,
he’s cute,” Oleander said.

“Want
to hold him?” Mercy offered. The taller woman scooped up Stu without
hesitation. “You’re a natural.”

“I
took care of my brother, Johann. I had a boyfriend before I went to prison. Who
knows what might have happened if Johann hadn’t planted that bomb? I might have
been a mother by now, too.” Oleander sighed and inhaled over the crown of the
baby’s head. “I love their fresh smell.” She paused before asking, “Do you have
any regrets about motherhood?”

“Only
that I miss my own mother more every day. She would have loved Stu, and there
are so many things I want to ask her.” Mercy had to blot back tears.

Oleander
gave her a hug. “I meant career-wise. Look, I know you’re not officially back
till tomorrow, but Yvette has cleared you for duty.”

“Desk
duty. My abdominal muscles are still pretty sore, but I haven’t had a seizure
in over a month.” Mercy knocked softly on the wood of the doorframe for luck.

“The
language team won’t have any work to do until I begin my scouting. Zeiss has
hinted that he could place you on another team temporarily, and competition is
stiff.”

“For
me?” Mercy asked with a laugh. “I still have rancid milk stains on my
nightshirt, and my uniform won’t fit.”

“We
need your brain, woman. You see things from a twisted perspective. Magi tech
comes naturally to you.”

“I
owe it all to Thomas the Tank Engine.”

“Seriously.
I needed to come early because Yuki is planning to ask you to join the panda
anthropology team tonight. The Parks and Zeisses take turns, but someone always
has to be watching—five shifts a week with no vacations or sick time.”

“That
explains the dinner invitation. And you want to recruit me for the landing
planners?”

Oleander
leaned close as she passed back the grunting baby. Smells were rising from the
diaper. “Actually, I want you to help the shimmer-armor folks. I can’t do my
job scouting without it, and it’s not quite soup yet.”

“I
can’t ask Snowflake any more questions.”

“I
know, but you’re a great engineer. If you can’t find a way to improve the
armor, I’ll know it’s the best we can do.”

“Flattery
always works,” Mercy said.

Oleander
suggested, “You could also extort that bra and uniform top out of their team’s
allotment.”

“Even
better. Although a dress and babysitting for a night might be useful, too.
Lou’s been hinting a lot since the doctors cleared me for other things.”

“Yvette’s
my roommate. We’ll watch Stu for you regardless.”

Mercy
kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“Anything
I should know about the little one?”

“I
made him a sock bunny he’s fond of. Before I leave him with you, I’ll pump some
milk in case he’s hungry. Somehow he never cries when I leave the room like my
sisters did when they couldn’t see Mom.”

After
saying good-bye to Oleander and putting on pants and a lab coat, Mercy woke Lou
so they could catch breakfast before the cafeteria closed. Even arriving by the
posted deadline, they had to finish their coffee and rolls outside because
Pratibha needed time to clean before lunch. Mercy asked her husband, “Could you
start feeding the chickens with Stu? I need to ask Sojiro something.”

“Sure.
Give me that sling.” She helped her husband into the baby carrier and then
tucked the baby inside. Lou kept up a running commentary in baby talk. “We’ll
even feed those silly gobblers. What sound do they make?” The pilot grabbed the
side of his own cheek and wiggled it as he blew. He was a natural mimic, and
the baby loved it.

Then
she wandered toward the old computer lab, which had morphed into shimmer armor central.
Sojiro greeted her at the door. “Mother Hen lives! You just missed our
ninety-minute daily team meeting.” He dipped his forefinger into his cheek in
sign language for ‘boring.’ “The team is hard at work adjusting design mark five
on the Herk mannequin. The real Herk is on the right.”

The
security chief waved as he held a stepladder for his wife. “I help with
welding.” The crude mannequin beside them modeled his combat exoskeleton.

Risa
ran another wire along the helmet, arduously tucking it out of sight.

During
Mercy’s time off, the others had cobbled together a steam-punk monstrosity. The
wired-together shimmer armor resembled a sandwich board used for advertising.
Someone had cut the pyramidal robot in half and added armholes. Kneepads and forearm
bracers attempted to provide invisibility for the limbs. The shoe covers were pitiful,
and the helmet cover resembled the Tin Woodsman cap from Oz. Mercy shook her
head. No one would be able to walk in that, even if they could manage to fit. While
the others shook her hand and took care of the social niceties, she computed
the square inches of space the armor provided and knew what she’d suggest.

“We
had to change the design to make it spear proof,” Risa grumbled. “Those are the
failed prototypes.” The materials engineer pointed to the corner where several
wire-covered helmets and a Kevlar vest were piled.

“But
we lowered the warm-up time from thirty minutes to three seconds and reduced
the power requirement enough that a belt pack could run it for an entire L
day,” Nadia bragged.

“I’d
love to see it work,” Mercy said.

Nadia
looked at the clock on the wall and weighed her options. “Ten minutes to
demonstrate our progress. Sojiro, film this for Zeiss to watch later.” She barked
orders at each team member and pulled Mercy behind the safety barricade. “It
rarely catches fire or explodes anymore.” Mercy grabbed a pair of safety
goggles without prompting because Risa dove for a pair. On the table, she
glanced at Sojiro’s sketchbook and saw images of ninjas and samurai armor. One
was an Islamic woman with a veil made of large sequins.

On
the counter, she noted the handheld material sensor Risa had customized to analyze
the blending armor. It looked like a common stud finder for houses. Such a
gadget might be useful for Yvette in her search for the Magi. If she hadn’t
found entry tunnels by now, they might be concealed by similar technology. While
the others were distracted by the whir of generators and the countdown, Mercy
slipped the detector into her lab-coat pocket.

At
the touch of a button, Nadia caused a span the size of a basketball to vanish
in the center of each ceramic panel. Everything at the borders remained white.
The same was true of the limb padding and footwear. Every item vanished in
spherical patterns.

“Impressive,”
Mercy said, “for a fundraiser.”

The
team went silent. Nadia’s face clouded. “And you could do better?”

“Step
outside with me,” Mercy said in her best
daughter-of-the-man-who-runs-the-company tone. When they were alone, she
continued, “I’ll be honest with you. I want the panda-observation team so bad I
can taste it, but I’ll need to spend a few weeks with you guys to get you on
the right track.”

The
project leader fish-mouthed with shock.

“You’re
one of the best scientists I’ve seen, Nadia, but this is the real world.
Compromises need to be made for product engineering. It’s time for this project
to transition from R&D to production style.”

“You
are taking my team?”

“No.
Good Lord, I’m trying to help. You don’t need another engineer, and I would
only slow you down while I tried to learn. You need a
manager
. That’s
something I did on the shuttle project. I’ll take over the paperwork and
complaints while you stay technical lead.”

The
Russian woman closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. “I would love for
that to happen, but our schedule is too tight. We ship in a month.”