Fish Tank
by Gregory Bennett
Illustration by David Hardy
A few other colonists were out for an early evening stroll along the main promenade of Rantoul High Colony’s northern end cap. Jeanette dodged around them, only vaguely mindful of their inquisitive stares. She tried to push her jog into a dead run, but her body refused. Her legs began to ache, reminding her this was only her second day back in the space colony’s gravity field after five weeks of servicing zero-g laboratories in Earth orbit. Her medical regimen called for eight weeks reconditioning in full acceleration after the tour, but this was an emergency! If she hurried, she could catch an immediate launch window for OceanLab.
Her immediate goal was to get to Central Station as quickly as she could. It was nearly twenty kilometers down the giant cylinder of the Rantoul space colony, but fortunately she would not have to run the entire distance.
Without breaking her stride, she unclipped her phone from her belt and slipped the instrument over her ear. A stitch of pain lanced her right side when she reached up to tap out a comm code on her phone. Her right leg jerked spasmodically in response, and she stumbled into a cart laden with bouquets of fresh flowers.
I’m really out of shape! Jeanette admonished herself. Gotta keep up my exercises while I’m on tour. Muttering apologies to the flower vendor she resumed her jog, deliberately pumping with both arms as she ran.
“Beverly Holmes,” the familiar voice spoke from the phone in her ear. “Jeanette? Where are you? I’ve been waiting at Maxi’s for ten minutes already.” Beverly was always irritated when Jeanette was late for a date. In return, Beverly’s obsession with punctuality irritated her; she had enough of clock-watching while astrogating between the laboratories.
“I’m almost to the tram station, on my way to the docks,” she huffed. Geez! Only two hundred yards and I’m already winded!
“What? I can’t hear you!”
Jeanette reached up to adjust her boom mike. The stitch returned. “I’m on my way to the docks, Bev. Have to cancel our dinner date. Gotta go back out!”
“You can’t go out! You just got back to colony two days ago!”
“Don’t give me… any of your… physical therapy crap, Bev.” She had to gasp for breath between each word. She slowed to a brisk walk, feeling her pulse pounding in her fingertips. “I’m fine… it’s just a short trip. Have to go!” She paused to suck a few heavy draughts of air, hoping Beverly would not realize just how winded she was.
“What’s the rush?”
“OceanLab is leaking pressure.” The pain in her side threatened to double her over. She tried to ignore it. The best she could manage was a stilt-legged walk, but at least she was making progress. “Lots of hits. Meteorites or something.”
“Let ’em send someone else. You’re not ready.”
The doors from the North Cap complex swung open ahead of her. Again picking up her pace to a jog, Jeanette hurried into the twilight outside. She fought down a tinge of nausea, reminding herself she was really inside a spacecraft. Agoraphobia; it always nagged her after she returned from weeks in the safe confines of her spacesuit and her tiny laboratories. She looked up toward the comforting vision of the other two land strips of Rantoul High Colony. Lights were beginning to twinkle on as the colony rotated its solar mirrors into their night cycle. She got her bearings as she watched Chanute, Rantoul’s companion cylinder, move sedately across the immense window directly above her.
“I don’t see how people can stand to live on Earth, with nothing but empty air between them and oblivion,” she said.
“We weren’t discussing your phobias, Jeanette,” Beverly reminded her. “We were talking about the nutty idea of you going back out after only two days of reconditioning. Now just forget it. Send someone else.”
“It’s gotta be me,” she explained. “Nobody else knows OceanLab. I’m the only tech who’s ever been inside, and I’m the only one who knows the fish! Besides, I have an exclusive maintenance contract with the Seattle Aquarium!”
A short jog down the foot path brought her to the brightly lit tram station. There were no cars in the station, and no one waiting. This early in the evening the trams would be shuttling empty back down the cylinder to bring more Toulies to the amusements and night clubs of North Cap. Feeling grateful for the solitude, she collapsed onto a seat, and for a moment was aware of little beyond her heaving chest. She had to wipe sweat from her eyes so she could find the buttons on the call panel. With a leaden hand she reached up to punch for a tram.
“Jeanette? You still there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I was doing something.”
“Why are you so eager to get to OceanLab? I thought fish gave you the creeps.”
“Not at all!” Jeanette countered. “They’re beautiful! At least as long as I don’t have to touch them. Besides, Bev, Oscar is on OceanLab! He might be hurt!”
A tram whooshed into the station, braking silently to a sudden stop.
“Oscar?”
“I told you about Oscar. The octopus. He’s the most important experiment at OceanLab.” She had to use both hands to drag herself out of her seat to board the tram. In the safe confines of the enclosed cabin, she found she could finally relax and catch her breath.
“Oh yeah,” Beverly said. “You told me you had a pet octopus on OceanLab you liked to talk to.”
“Oscar is more than a pet! He’s… he’s Oscar!”
“Jeanette, you are singularly weird.” There was a wry smirk in Beverly’s voice.
“Thanks, Bev. I love you, too. Gotta ring off now. Water my spider plant for me, will you?”
“Always do. Have a good flight!” Beverly always wished her a good flight, but this time she didn’t sound very sincere.
Jeanette punched for Central Station on the tram’s control map and tried to relax as the vehicle glided out of the station. Unless the tram had to pick up someone else, she would be there in fifteen minutes. Just out of North Cap, the tram was still accelerating through the northern groves. She inhaled deeply. The sweet fragrance of orange trees reminded her of all she missed while she was out on tour. After weeks of zero-g stuffiness, it was good to have her sense of smell back, if only for a single day. But her responsibility to her customers nagged her; she made another call.
“Yah. Leroy’s Services.” It was Duke, Leroy’s protege. He sounded distracted. Jeanette heard the snickety rasp of a ratchet wrench in the background. The ratcheting suddenly stopped. “Oh, hi Jeanette! Just recognized your comm code.”
“Evening, Duke. Hey, is my suit ready?”
“Sure, back in your locker. I got the pads in your long johns done this afternoon. C’mon in and try ’em on any time.”
“I’m on my way there now, Duke,” Jeanette said.
He was just a little too long in responding. She wondered what he was thinking. She knew he was fond of her, but tried not to take advantage of it. Duke was a sweet kid, passionately interested in anything she told him about her adventures in the zero-g labs. And unabashedly interested in her. It would be too easy to hurt him.
“Tonight?” he finally asked. “But I thought you were going out with Beverly tonight.”
“It’s sweet of you to remember, Duke. Beverly and I did have plans, but I have to go back out.”
There was no hesitation this time. “You can’t go out! You just got back!”
Oh great. Here we go again. “Don’t worry, Duke. I got lots of exercise on my last tour, hardly any deconditioning at all.” It bothered her to lie to him, but if he were seriously worried about her, he might not let her have her suit back. “And I have to go. OceanLab got hit; it’s leaking fast. I have to get down there and repair the damage before all the fish die.”