Falling Free (13 page)

day's events I wonder if it was a coincidence. I rather think not. Isn't it so that, he wheeled and pointed dramatically at Leo,
you
put Tony and Claire up to this escapade?

Me! Leo sputtered in outrage, paused. True, Tony did come to me once with some very oddquestions, but I thought he was just curious about his upcoming work assignment. I wish now I'd...

You admit it! Van Atta crowed. You have encouraged defiant attitudes toward company authority among the hydroponics workers, and among your own students entrusted to you—ignored the psych
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department's carefully developed guidelines for speech and behavior while aboard the Habitat—infected the workers with your own bad attitudes—

Leo realized suddenly that Van Atta was not going to let him get a word of defense in edgewise if he could possibly help it. Van Atta was onto something infinitely more valuable than mere vengeance for a punch in the jaw—ascapegoat. A perfect scapegoat, upon whom he could pin every glitch in the Project for the past two months—or longer, depending on his ingenuity—and sacrifice qualmlessly to the company gods, himself emerging squeaky-clean and sinless.

No, by God! Leo roared. If I were running a revolution, I'd do a damn sight better job of it than
tha
t—he waved in the general direction of the warehouse. His muscles bunched to launch himself at Van Atta again. If he was to be fired anyway, he'd at least get some satisfaction out of it—

Gentlemen. Apmad's voice sluiced down like a bucket of ice water. Mr. Van Atta, may I remind you that terminations from outlying facilities like Rodeo are discouraged. Not only is GalacTech contractually obligated to provide transportation home to the terminees, but there is also the expense and large time delay of importing their replacements. No, we shall finish it this way. Captain Bannerji shall be suspended for two weeks without pay, and an official reprimand added to his permanent record for carrying an unauthorized weapon on official company duty. The weapon shall be confiscated.Mr. Grafshall be officially reprimanded also, but return immediately to his duties, as there is no one to replace him in them.

But I was screwed, complained Bannerji.

But I'm totally innocent! cried Leo. It's a fabrication—aparanoid fantasy-—

You can't send Graf back to the Habitat
now,
yelped Van Atta. Next thing you know he'll be trying to
unionize
' em—

Considering the consequences of the Cay Project's failure, said the Ops VP coldly, I think not. Eh, Mr.

Graf?

Leo shivered. Eh.

She sighed without satisfaction. Thank you. This investigation is now complete.Further complaints or appeals by any party may be addressed to GalacTech headquarters on Earth.
If you dare,
her quirked eyebrow added. Even Van Atta had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

The mood in the shuttle for the return trip to the Habitat was, to say the least, constrained. Claire, accompanied by one of the Habitat's infirmary nurses pulled offher downside leave three days early for the duty, huddled in the back clutching Andy. Leo and Van Atta sat as far from each other as the limited space allowed.

Van Atta spoke once to Leo. I told you so.You were right,Leo replied woodenly. Van Atta nearly purred at the stroke, smug. Leo would rather have stroked him with a pipe wrench.

Could Van Atta be all right, as well? Was his disruptive pressure for instant results a sign of concern for the quaddies' welfare, even survival? No, Leo decided with a sigh. The only welfare that truly concerned Bruce was his own.

Leo let his head rest on the padded support and stared out his window as the acceleration of takeoff thrust him back in his seat. A shuttle ride was still a bit of a thrill to something deep in him, even after the
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countless trips he'd made. There were people—billions, the vast majority—who never set foot off their home planets in their lives. He was one of the lucky few.

Lucky to have his job. Lucky in the results he'd achieved, over the years. The vast Morita Deep Space Transfer Station had probably been the crown of his career, the largest project he was ever likely to work on. He'd first viewed the site when it was empty, icy vacuum, as nothing as nothing could possibly be. He'd passed through it again just last year, making a changeover from a ship from Ylla to a ship for Earth. Morita had looked good, really good; alive, even undergoing expansion of its facilities, several years sooner than anyone had expected. Smooth expansion; plans for it had been incorporated into the original designs. Over-ambitious they'd called it then. Far-sighted, they called it now.

And there had been other projects too. Every day, from one end of the wormhole nexus to the other, countless accidents of structural failure did
not
occur because he, and people he'd trained, had done their jobs well. The work of a harried week, the early detection of the propagating micro-cracks in the reactor coolant lines at the great Beni Ra orbital factory alone had saved, perhaps, three thousand lives. How many surgeons could claim to save three thousand lives in ten years of their careers? On that memorable inspection tour, he'd done it once a month for a year. Invisibly, unsung; disasters that never happen don't normally make headlines. But he knew, and the men and women who worked alongside him knew, and that was enough.

He regretted slugging Bruce. The moment's red joy had certainly not been worth risking his job for. The eighteen years of accumulating pension benefits, the stock options, the seniority, yes, maybe; with no family to support, they were allLeo's, to piss into the wind if he chose. But who would take care of the next Beni Ra?

When they returned to the Habitat, he would cooperate. Apologize handsomely to Bruce. Redouble his training efforts, increase his care. Bite his tongue, speak only when spoken to. Be polite to Dr. Yei. Hell, even do what she told him.

Anything else was impossibly risky. There were a thousand kids up there. So many, so varied—so
youn
g
.
A hundred five-year-olds, a hundred and twenty six-year-olds alone, cramming the creche modules, playing games in their free-fall gym.No one individual could possibly take responsibility for risking all those lives on something chancy. It would be endless, all-consuming. Impossible. Criminal. Insane. Revol t—where could it lead? No one could possibly forsee all the consequences. Leo couldn't even see around the next corner. No one could. No one.

They docked at the Habitat. Van Atta shooed Claire and Andy and the nurse ahead of him through the hatchway, as Leo slowly unfastened his seat harness.

Oh, no, Leo heard Van Atta say. The nurse will take Andy to the creche. You will return to your old dormitory. Taking that baby downside was criminally irresponsible. It's clear you are totally unfit to have charge of him. I can guarantee, you'll be struck from the reproduction roster, too.

Claire's weeping was so muffled as to be nearly inaudible.

Leo closed his eyes in pain. God, he asked, why me?

Releasing his last restraint, he fell blindly into his future.

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Leo! Silver anchored one hand and pounded softly and frantically with the other three on the door to the engineer's sleeping quarters. Leo, quick! Wake up, help! She laid her cheek against the cold plastic, muffling her bursting howl to a small, sliding Leo? She dared not cry louder, lest she attract more than Leo's ear.

His door slid open at last. He wore red T-shirt and shorts, barefoot. His sleep sack against the far wall hung open like an empty cocoon, and his thinning sandy hair stuck out in odd directions. What the hell . .

. Silver? His face was rumpled with sleep, eyes dark-ringed but focusing fast.

Come quick, come quick! Silver hissed, grabbing his hand. It's Claire. She tried to go out an airlock. I jammed the controls. She can't get the outer door open, but I can't get the inner door open either, and she's trapped in there. Our supervisor will be back soon, and then I don't know
what
they'll do to us. . . .

Son-of-a... he allowed her to draw him into the corridor, then lurched back into his cabin to grab a tool belt. All right, go, go, lead on.

They sped through the maze of the Habitat, offering strained bland smiles to those quaddies and downsiders they flew past in the corridors. At last, the familiar door to Hydroponics Dclosed behind them.

What happened? How did this happen? Leo asked her as they brushed through the grow-tubes to the far end of the module.

They wouldn't let me go see Claire day before yesterday, when you brought her back on the shuttle, even though we were both in the Infirmary. Yesterday we were on different work teams. I think it was on purpose. Today I made Teddie trade with me.Silver's voice smeared with her distress. Claire said they won't even let her into the creche to see Andy on her off-shift. I went to get fertilizer from -Stores to charge the grow-tubes we were working on, and when I came back, the lock was just starting to cycle....

If only she hadn't left Claire alone—if only she had not let the shuttle take them downside in the first plac e—if only she had not betrayed them to Dr. Yei's drugs—if only they'd been born downsiders—or not been born at all. ...

The airlock at the end of the hydroponics module was almost never used, merely waiting to become the airseal door to the next module that future growth might demand. Silver pressed her face to the observation window. To her immense relief, Claire was still within.

But she was ramming herself back and forth between door and door, her face smeared with tears and blood, fingers reddened. Whether she gulped for air or only screamed Silver could not tell, for all sound was silenced by the barrier door, like a turned-down holovid. Silver's own chest seemed so tight she could scarcely breathe.

Leo glanced in. His lips drew back in a fierce scowl in his whitened face, and he turned to hiss at the lock mechanism, scrabbling at his tool belt. You fixed it but good, Silver...

I had to do something quick. Shorting it that way blocked the alarm from going offin Central Systems.

Oh... Leo's hands hesitated briefly. Not so random a stab as it looks, then.

Random?In an airlock control box? She stared at him in surprise, and some indignation. I'm not a
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five-year-old!

Indeed not. A crooked grin lightened his tense face for a moment. Any quaddie of six would know better. My apologies, Silver. So the problem then, is not how to open the door, but how to do so without tripping the alarm.

Yes, right.She hovered anxiously.

He looked the mechanism over, glanced up rather more hesitantly at the airlock door, which vibrated to the thumping from within. You sure Claire doesn't need—more help anyway?

She may need help, snapped Silver, but what she'll get is Dr. Yei.

Ah . . . right. His grin thinned out altogether. He clipped a couple of tiny wires and rerouted them. With one last doubtful look at the lock door, he tapped a pressure plate within the mechanism.

The inner door slid open and Claire tumbled out, gasping rawly,... let me go, let me go, oh, why didn't you let me go—Ican't stand this... She curled up in a huddled ball in midair, face hidden.

Silver darted to her, wrapped her arms around her. Oh, Claire! Don't
do
things like that. Think—think how Tony would feel, stuck in that hospital downship, when they told him...

What does it matter? demanded Claire, muffled against Silver's blue T-shirt. They'll never let me see him again. I might as well be dead. They'll never let me see Andy...

Yes,Leo chimed in,think of Andy. Who will protect him, if you're not around? Not just today, but next week, next year...

Claire unwound, and fairly screamed at him. They won't even let me see him! They threw me out of the creche...

Leo seized her upper hands. Who? Who threw you out?

Mr. Van Atta...

Right, I might have known. Claire, listen to me. The proper response to Bruce isn't suicide, it's murder.

Really? said Silver, her interest sparking. Even Claire was drawn out of her tight wad of misery enough to meet Leo's eyes directly for the first time. Well . . . perhaps not literally. But you can't let the bastard grind you down. Look, we're all smart here, right? You kids are smart—I've been known to knock down a problem or two, in my time—we've got to be able to think our way out of this mess, if we try.

You're not alone, Claire. We'll help. I'll help.

But you're a company man—adownsider—why should you . . . ?

GalacTech's not God, Claire. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your firstborn to it. GalacTech—any company—is just a way, one way, for people to organize themselves to do a job that's too big for one person to do alone. It's not God, it's not even a being, for pity's sake. It doesn't have a free will to answer for. It's just a collection of people, working. Bruce is only Bruce, there's got to be some way to get around him.

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You mean go over his head? asked Silver thoughtfully. Maybe to that vice president who was here last week?

Leo paused. Well . , . maybe not to Apmad. But I've been thinking—for three days, I've been thinking of nothing else but how to blow up this whole rotten set-up. But you've got to hang on, for me to have time to work—Claire, can you hang on? Can you? His hands tightened on hers urgently.

She shook her head doubtfully. It hurts so much...

You have to. Look,listen. There's nothing I can do here at Rodeo, it's in this peculiar legal bubble. If it were a regular planetary government, I swear I'd go into debt to my eyebrows and buy each and every one of you a ticket out of here, but then, if it were a regular planet, I wouldn't need to. Anyway Galac Tech has a monopoly on Jump ship seats here, you travel on a company ship or not at all. So we have to wait, and bide our time.

But in a little time—just a few months—the first quaddies will leave Rodeo on the first real work assignments. Working in and passing through real planetary jurisdictions. Governments too big and powerful even for GalacTech to mess with. I'm sure—pretty sure, if I pick the right venue—not Apmad's planet, of course, but say, Earth—Earth's by
far
the best bet, I'm a citizen there—Ican bring a class-action suit declaring you legal persons. I'll probably lose my job, and the costs will eat me, but it can be done. Not exactly the life's work I had in mind . . . but eventually, you can be cracked loose from GalacTech.