Solaris Rising (27 page)

“Just looking.”

“Okay.”

At the hospital they wheeled him into Emergency. Brian craned his head around. David, backpack slung from one shoulder, stood talking to the admitting nurse. The nurse wrote on a clipboard.

Behind a curtain, in a brightly-lit room, a young doctor asked Brian questions.

“I’ll be all right if I can get over myself,” Brian said.

“Please try to focus on what I’m asking you, Mr. Kerr.”

“Okay.

Staring at the white acoustical ceiling tiles, Brian felt himself slipping away. Don’t get all dramatic, Trish had told him. Maybe
Brian
was the six-year-old around here. If you died in a dream, you really died. But Brian didn’t want to die.

He interrupted the doctor. “I want to see my son.”

“Where is he?”

“He was talking to the admitting nurse, I think. I really want to see him, if he hasn’t already left.”

“Why would I leave?” David said, in his usual half-belligerent tone, as he stepped around the curtain.

“No reason, son.”

Brian opened his hand and moved it toward David. After a moment’s hesitation, David took it – and the dream dissolved. The hand, however, was still there.

MOONCAKES

MIKE RESNICK AND LAURIE TOM

Mike Resnick is a long-established and highly-respected science fiction author, whose work has been entertaining readers for decades, whereas Laurie Tom’s promising career has only just begun. The two met when Laurie won the 2010 Writers of the Future Award with her story ‘Living Rooms’. Mike was one of the judges. Awards are something Mike knows a fair bit about, having been nominated for a Hugo some thirty-five times, which, he feels confident, makes him the greatest ever Hugo loser. Along the way, of course, he’s also picked up a whole hatful of awards, including a Hugo and five Nebulas. In fact, as of 2011, Mike occupies 1
^st
place in the
Locus
list of all-time award winners for short fiction. Mike is the author of 64 novels, over 250 short stories and two screen plays, and his work has been translated into 25 languages. Laurie has loved fantasy and science fiction for as long as she can remember. There came a point where other people’s worlds simply weren’t enough for her, so she determined to create her own. “Mooncakes” represents Laurie and Mike’s first collaboration.

Rachel Wang lifted her phone to read the blunt, concise message left on the glowing screen.
Sorry. No go,
it said.
Seeing Nick.

With a sigh, she shoved her cell back in her pocket and looked out the double glass doors at the slick pavement outside. Though it had stopped raining an hour ago, the sky was still cloudy and dim. The atmosphere was supposed to clear by tomorrow morning, in which case she would be flying up to the station. She needed to be on board the
Ark
for its final run of checks. As Earth’s first colony ship, the launch of the
Ark
would be a moment for the history books.

The journey was set to take decades, and the captaincy would be a heavy responsibility, probably lasting as long as the captain lived. There had been hundreds of candidates from across the globe, and the commission had finally settled on her. She and her crew would be sailing into deep space, farther than humanity had ever gone – and they would not be coming back. Rachel had said all her good-byes to family and friends... all except for Kelly, her sister.

“Were you waiting for someone?”

It was David Silver, the supervising doctor of the colony ship. He was in his thirties, like most of the command team. The commission had deemed it desirable to find exceptional staff who would be able to remain at their posts for decades to come and pass on their specialized knowledge to the next generation. The lower-ranking members of the crew were allowed a greater spread in age, so that turnover due to retirement did not cripple the crew all at once.

“Not anymore,” said Rachel, with a disgruntled shake of her head. She would have thought her only sister could have made room in her evening for her. It wasn’t as if they could meet again next week, next month, or even twenty years from now.

“Hey, David?” she said suddenly. “I never asked, but is your family coming along on the
Ark
?”

He grinned and nodded. “Wife, kids, even parents. They won’t be heading up for a couple more weeks, but they’ll all be there. What about yours?”

Rachel shook her head, and tried to hide her disappointment with a smile. “My parents are pleased for me, but they’re happy right here. And I’m still single, so...” She shrugged.

“Not to worry,” he said, stepping up to the sliding door. “There are going to be plenty of single men on the
Ark.
I’m sure a good-looking captain will have her pick of them.”

She fell into step alongside him. They took the shuttle to the apartment complex where most of the crew had lived ever since being selected for the program. Now that she had accepted Kelly wasn’t meeting her, there was no reason to wait in the command center.

“I’m sure it won’t be that easy,” she said lightly. “After all, who’s going to want to date” – she wrinkled her nose – “an officer?”

“Why not? Are you going to throw them in the brig for expressing interest?”

She laughed and let the subject drop.

Though a myriad of cultures would be represented on the
Ark,
she knew they wouldn’t all remain intact during the ship’s long journey to their destination. For the moment they were one great pot of heterogeneity, but give it a generation, maybe two, and eventually their cultures would almost certainly melt together, forming something entirely new for their new home. And she didn’t like to think that her descendants would forget their past, their heritage.

Like Kelly.

“Weren’t you going on about some sort of Chinese holiday this week?” asked David. “Is that over now?”

“It’s actually later this week, but we’re going to be in space by then. If you were thinking of picking up some mooncake, you can still do that. Buying mooncake for the Mooncake Festival’s like buying eggnog for Christmas. You can always do it a couple weeks early.”

David smiled. “Only if it tastes like gefilte fish.”

She made a face. “Do you really like that?”

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Then why –?”

“Because if my wife and I don’t make it, our children and their children will never taste gefilte fish, and even if they don’t like it any better than I do, that’s part of who we are.”

“We may become a whole new culture by the end of the voyage,” said Rachel.

“That’s okay. We can never forget who we are, and what we came from,” said David. “I’m a Jew. It doesn’t matter whether I believe or deny it, the world knows I’m a Jew. They’ve been killing my people for four thousand years. You think people who hate me were fooled because my grandfather changed his name from Silverstein to Silver?” He smiled in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run on like that.”

“It’s all right,” said Rachel. “I have a culture and heritage that I don’t want to lose or forget either.”

She and Kelly had fought as children over the mooncake. The flaky crusts of the mooncake covered a paste of black bean or lotus seed, and inside the paste would be a delicious salted egg yolk. But the yolk would never be in the exact middle, so when their father cut the little cake into quarters for each member of the family someone would always get more yolk than the rest.

Rachel frowned. Kelly probably wasn’t even eating mooncake this year. Some second generation immigrants followed dutifully in their parents cultural footsteps. Others couldn’t wait to go mainstream. Kelly was the latter; dating an endless string of white boyfriends, even forgetting how to write her own name in Chinese. One had to assimilate, Rachel knew that – but like David, not like Kelly, who wouldn’t even be seeing her older sister off on a voyage that would take a lifetime.

“As for the mooncake,” Rachel said to David, “I should be able to bring some up to the station for everyone.” It would probably be the last time she was able to eat mooncake. She was fairly certain the
Ark
would not be bringing along the ingredients she’d need to make it herself. There were other staff members of Asian descent, but she wasn’t sure how many of them were Chinese in particular. And even if they were, she couldn’t know if they were what she thought of as Kelly Chinese or Rachel Chinese.

Rachel knew her parents wanted a Chinese grandchild, but she couldn’t be sure that she could give them that aboard the ship. But she would damned well be the daughter they were proud of. She was going into space on the colony ship. She would be remembered, her name recorded on the pages of history.

“Great!” said David. “I’d like to try one. I’m sure Moses will forgive me.” He suddenly smiled. “Golda Meier I have my doubts about.”

She smiled in return. The cakes were meant to be eaten with friends and family. It probably would be a good start to share them with the people she’d be spending the rest of her life with.

“You know,” she said. “They’re supposed to be eaten under the light of the full moon. I think we’ll have a good view up there.”

Suddenly Rachel found herself wondering if mooncake would have any meaning in deep space where there would no longer be any moon.

Her apartment was all packed up. The furniture belonged to the commission, and all her personal belongings fit into two large suitcases and a backpack. The accumulations of a lifetime suddenly seemed so small and unimpressive. The only unplanned item was the bag containing three tins of mooncake that she had purchased the night before. One had already been opened. She’d been unable to help herself last night, being alone for her last night on Earth. The cake had been good: Lotus seed. Her favorite.

She told herself that even if the
Ark
sailed light years away and the few Chinese on board forgot their heritage, here on Earth there were still billions of Chinese who remembered the old ways. It wasn’t as though the culture was going to disappear.

But still... when (or if) she had children, she wanted to pass on what little she knew to them, as she was sure David passed
his
heritage on, as the Irish and Brazilian and Kenyan members did as well. Maybe it would only be a few broken words in their ancestral tongue, but she had to pass on
something
. She didn’t want her family’s heritage to die out with her, the way it would with Kelly.

Her cell beeped.
Open the door already.

Kelly? It was her ID.

Rachel walked out of her bedroom and over to the front door. She opened it to find her sister standing outside, a shopping bag in either arm and her cell phone wedged in one hand. Kelly’s hair was bleached blond, but there was no getting rid of the almond eyes and rounded face.

“I didn’t think I’d see you,” said Rachel.

Kelly rolled her eyes as she stepped inside. “You’re leaving later today, aren’t you?” She dropped one bag on the floor by the door. It was full of clothing with the pricetags still attached. The other she held up in front of her, the Chinese characters of the supermarket plainly marked on the bag. “You’re still my only sister and I know mooncake season is important for you, God knows why… so I thought I’d bring some. You know, to say good-bye.”

“I’m not sure I have the time,” said Rachel. “I already packed most of my stuff. Pick-up’s in a few hours.”

“Isn’t the silverware part of the apartment?” It was.

How can I say no to my own sister’s peace offering?
“I’ll get it,” said Rachel with a sigh. “I don’t have any tea, though. I already used it up.”

“Water’s fine.” Kelly reached in the bag and pulled out a square tin. There was Chinese lettering all over the box, but also a white sticker listing the contents in English. Rachel was reasonably certain that if it hadn’t been there her sister would have had no idea what flavor she was buying.

Kelly followed her into the kitchen and set the tin on the counter. “I picked this one carefully,” she said. “I know we’ve fought a lot, and I wanted to make sure you left on a good note. I want your last memory of me to be a happy one. This mooncake’s special. I got the one with double moons.”

Rachel glanced at the box, reading its contents for the first time. There were two eggs in each cake. It was probably the most expensive box in the store.

“So we don’t have to fight,” said Kelly.

Rachel allowed herself a smile and pulled her into a hug. “We’ll always be different, but you’re still my sister, and I love you.”

“I know I haven’t always been very Chinese, but I never forget mooncake day.”

“No, you don’t,” agreed Rachel, remembering their childhood fights. She pulled out a couple of plates and a knife. “Let’s open that up and eat a cake.”

Maybe Kelly would never be as Chinese as she hoped, but even so she hadn’t forgotten everything. Maybe, if Rachel had children on the
Ark
one day, they wouldn’t either.

Rachel boarded ship a few hours later, and found herself sitting next to David.