Future Prospect (12 page)

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

“No. Let’s go see.” Colan reached out for her hand, and Lia took it. She hardly needed assistance, but his touch steadied her as they followed the mass of people out the front doors. The large group of chattering and staring people assembled in the muddy open area outside the front of the building complex. Night had fallen, and there weren’t many exterior lights installed yet so it was hard to make out what had happened.

Lia scanned the crowd for her associates and found Moca conferring with Zashi. Tugging Colan along with her as she maneuvered past chattering people, they reached the magistrate and security officer who stood next to one of the half-completed modular units. The lean structure now had a large smear of some sort of sooty material sprayed along the side. It was hard to make out in the low light.

“Lia, you’re all right?”

“We’re fine, Moca.” The magistrate glanced at their joined hands and raised one well-shaped eyebrow. Lia extracted her fingers and took a deep breath to get her mind back on the proper path. “What happened?”

“Unknown, but we need to disperse these people in case there is a secondary explosion,” Zashi spoke up. He seemed pleased to have something criminal to investigate.

“So, it was explosives and not a problem with the construction site?” Colan asked, sounding as intent as Zashi looked. The security officer shrugged noncommittally.

Moca turned toward the crowd and spoke up as loudly as she could to be heard over the fifty different conversations. “Citizens, please head back home. Anyone requiring medical assistance should make their way to our clinic through that set of doors.”

She pointed out the correct modular as people continued to chatter but obediently made their way toward the sagging buildings of Pearl. Several stopped and greeted Colan as he stood there. One Pearlite who joined them didn’t leave. It was Georgina Healy. She frowned as she evaluated the burned wall.

“I’m going to check on my boys, and then I’ll be back. With them if necessary.”

Zashi turned away from the smudges he examined with a tiny flashlight and shook his head. “I’ll be by in a few minutes to talk with them. Just keep them at home.”

“So you think they did it?”

“Preliminary analysis indicates the same chemical signature as the explosion in your backyard.”

Lia shook her head. It was one thing to blow up a stack of buckets in a deserted yard, but to set off explosions so near a large group of people was incredibly dangerous. Gina Healy seemed to agree, and she stepped back and shook her head once, distress clear on her face even in the shadows.

“Of course, Chief Zashi. We’ll be waiting for you.” The worried mother hurried off into the shadows behind the retreating forms of other attendees. Lia had a feeling tonight’s excitement would fuel a lot of entertaining conversations in the days to come.

“Magistrate, I’d feel better if you’d get yourself back to the suites and out of sight.” The security officer spoke in a low voice as he returned to his examination of the site of the explosion. Moca shook her head, but Lia felt a trickle of worry. The inhabitants of Pearl weren’t pleased they were here, and it was far too easy for someone with ill-will to hide in the shadows of the empty buildings surrounding them.

“Come on Moca, let’s get back.” She turned to say good evening to Colan to find he already watched her. He gave her a nod and joined Zashi near the crumpled barrel that seemed to be the locus of all the destructive force.

* * * *

“But Mom, I swear we didn’t do it!” Perrin’s anguished cry sounded genuine. Colan took a deep breath and tried to remain impersonal as he leaned against the living area’s doorframe, but it was difficult. The little boys were seated next to each other on a sofa in their home, while their mother hovered next to them, and the security officer crouched in front of them. Perrin received the brunt of the questions since he was oldest, but Ermil contributed equal amounts of denial.

“No one is saying you did.” Gina looked from her distressed children back at Zashi who was silently watching the interplay. “But the chemicals were identical to the one you did in the backyard, and in nearly the same proportions.”

“We didn’t do it, Mom,” Ermil piped up. “We were here the whole time. You can check the housebot. Luci too.”

Luci, the Healy family’s intermittent housekeeper, had already explained she’d been there the whole evening with the boys, but had fallen asleep after dinner and couldn’t necessarily account for their whereabouts for nearly an hour. The house security program hadn’t functioned reliably since Ermil decided to reprogram it a few months prior in an attempt to repel visitors by routing small electrical charges through the floors. It seemed they were at an impasse.

Zashi shook his head. “I know you boys understood me when I told you that explosions were forbidden, correct?”

Both little brown heads nodded solemnly.

“Did you tell anyone how you made your compound?”

Gina’s head turned at this question from the still crouching security officer, and he held up a warning hand. Ermil glanced at Perrin, who sniffled, close to tears. Colan sympathized with the boy, surrounded by unhappy adults and pleading innocence had to be incredibly upsetting for him. Colan couldn’t quite believe the boys had anything to do with this latest incident. Once they were caught in one of their escapades they always confessed. They also hadn’t shared any conspiratorial glances this evening.

Ermil shrugged in response to the question, and Perrin burst into tears. Gina swooped in and gathered them to her in a protective hug. Zashi rose to his feet with a sigh and braced his hands on his hips.

“I’ll ask them about that later, when they aren’t so upset. Is there anything else?” Gina asked, clearly ready for the evening to be over and hoping her children would be left with her and not incarcerated. She’d been cooperative, but the strain showed in her tight expression and tired eyes.

“Not for tonight. I might have more questions in the morning. Let me know who they talked to.”

The security officer said his good nights after a long stare at the boys. Colan asked if Gina needed anything, and when her list of requests included having a good night’s sleep and wishing that someone could get the congressionals off the planet so everything could return to normal, he knew it was time for him to go. There was no way he could perform either miracle.

He found the security officer waiting on the dark front porch, looking down the main street of Pearl where a few lights glowed against the small buildings.

“What do you think of their story?”

Colan shrugged, imitating Emil. “I don’t know. You said it’s the same stuff as before, but I believe them when they say they didn’t do it.”

Zashi nodded. “I believe them too. I didn’t get in this business to make children cry.”

He made his way down the steps, and Colan followed him, ready for this night to be over. Zashi paused in front of the scientist’s house.

“Coming back?”

“To the suites?”

Zashi nodded. Colan wondered if he was being propositioned by the quiet man.

“Thought you might want to check on Lia.”

Oh
. “No. I’m sure she’s asleep.”

The other man tilted his head in acknowledgement, his expression hard to read in the shadows. “Tomorrow then.”

He turned and disappeared into the night, and Colan heaved out a sigh. He didn’t want to think about explosions, upset children, or how much he’d enjoyed having an excuse to touch Lia’s skin tonight.

* * * *

“They aren’t supposed to be here.” Lia denied the obvious. There was definitely a ship orbiting Gamaliel, she could see its projected trajectory on her datpad screen. It was filled with settlers, and according to her absolute, utmost, latest schedule, they were still supposed to be on Weave assembling their supplies. People must be mad for the chance to slop around in the muck searching for cortiglow and riches.

“They are here, and the captain wants them off his ship,” Cordon replied with a casual air. He didn’t care that the first section of barracks had only gotten a roof that morning and the water wasn’t hooked up yet. That was her concern, and eventually Welti’s when he noticed a bunch of strangers obliviously using the non-functioning toilets.

“The captain brought them here five hundred and eighteen hours ahead of schedule. Let them wait up there.”

“You don’t get to make that call, Lia. I know you have your schedules, but we have to make some changes. You’ll be fine.” Cordon took a sip of his coffee and gave her a bland look. It was easy for him to say
make it work
when he had no concept of how this news had thrown everything into disarray. She’d have to modify shipments of supplies, reschedule bot charge cycles, find bed linens and hygienic tissues, and move up the orientation sessions. It was a horrible buffet of tasks, and she wasn’t hungry to take on any of them.

“How long do we have before they drop down?”

“Eighteen hours.”

“I have to manage five hundred hours of work in less than a day?”

“You don’t have to do the work personally. Welti said the rooms would be ready. So it’s not as if they’re going to be sleeping in the mud.”

“That’s not all we have to accommodate, Cordon,” Lia sighed, tired of trying to explain the complexity of the project to him. “Not only do they require accommodations, we have to have food, medical supplies and staff, an office for them to come to if there are problems, and someone there to help them.”

“Get that Tor fellow to man the information kiosk.”

Lia took a deep breath and shook her head at Cordon. Again, he was quite clueless when it came to reality. The idea of Colan Nestor charmingly answering questions about where the nearest gelato shop was made her blood run cold. Or hot. It was hard to know how her blood was going to run whenever Colan was around. She hadn’t allowed herself time to reflect on how much she’d enjoyed those brief touches he’d given her the previous evening. There had been an explosion, after all. But faced with the terrible destruction of the schedule, her mind retreated into reviewing how nicely the calluses on his palms had roughed against her skin. The idea of him touching her in other, even tenderer spots tantalized her. A much more pleasant topic than spending a few hours reviewing supply flowcharts.

“Eighteen hours?” Lia shook her head and wished Cordon would leave her barren office so she could get to work. He seemed to realize she was displeased and wished to be left alone, because he rose and gave her half a salute. He was wearing full civil service uniform, and his pips gleamed at his shoulder. The assistant magistrate wasn’t planning on going outside in the mud today, Lia realized. Suddenly, the idea of wandering around in these strange forests held an incredible appeal. She could almost feel the muck squelching underfoot as she walked under the silent, grayish trunks spiraled with mint green fringe. They always seemed to be waving at her whenever she looked out her window, even when there wasn’t a breeze. First, thinking about Colan’s strong and rough hands, and now, wondering about the native trees. She was losing her grip.

Two quick messages later, Lia felt she had a better idea of the challenges ahead. Welti assured her water and power would be functional in the barracks by the end of the work day, and Claude had arranged to barter with the ship’s crew circling overhead for an emergency pallet or two of basic foodstuffs, which should hold them until their regular supply drop in two days. The doctor hadn’t replied to her message about medical readiness, so she decided to walk over to the clinic. It would be good to stretch her back and breathe some fresh, humid air.

She arrived in medical and found the doctor in full panic mode. Deval Polin lay half underneath the new scanbed in the diagnostic bay, and she cursed loudly when Lia entered the room with a knock on the doorframe without a door.

“Doctor Polin,” she called out, and the doctor’s legs shifted as she shimmied out from under the machine. Davel Polin was tall and red haired with striking green eyes which always made Lia think of a heroine in a romantic story. “What’s wrong?”

“I think this thing was jammed during the drop. All the test readings are skewed to the hot side.” Polin threw a disgusted glance at the machine. Lia had no idea what she meant but realized the other woman had been far too busy to check her messages or get back to Lia about her dilemma.

“Can I help?”

“You sure can. Do you have a few minutes to spare?”

Lia shrugged, she could spend some time if the doctor was willing to talk while she worked.

“Great. Lie down and let me scan you, so I can recalibrate this thing manually.”

Lia crawled up on the foamy surface of the scanbed and settled back in the gently buoyant material. As Deval ran tests, Lia explained about the expedited shipment of settlers and asked the doctor what her preparedness was. After hearing a long string of curses about the stupidity of anyone rushing untrained folk onto an unsettled planet filled with unknown hazards, Polin settled down and ruminated as she studied Lia’s readings.

“See, it has your basal temperature at twenty two degrees and your core temperature at eighteen. Completely off.” Polin disappeared under the bed, and Lia heard her clicking something several times. The lights of the scanners above Lia winked on and off and she blinked, worried she’d get another headache.

“If I can get this damned machine working, I should be able to handle any normal illnesses and injuries for that size group. Once my staff arrives in the next scheduled shuttle, I’ll be better able to cope with any disasters.” Polin popped back up and stared at another monitor. “If that explosion last night had been inside the building rather than outside, I don’t know how I would have handled the wounded.”

“It was scary until we realized no one was hurt.” Lia closed her eyes and relaxed. She might be able to manage this new wrinkle in the schedule in a halfway competent manner.

“Lia, would you mind if I checked the anesthetic module on you? I’m just going to make you sleepy.”

Lia’s eyes snapped open, and she stared at Polin. “You just said this thing isn’t working right, and you want to knock me out with it?”