“Of course we have the mixture. I even managed to pry a couple dozen real eggs from the market downtown.” Nick smiled widely, but I sensed part of him was wishing he could stay. If Clare hadn’t volunteered, I doubted he would have stuck his hand up.
Magnus exited the ship, Slate right behind him. They chatted quietly for a minute, out of earshot of the rest of us, and the younger man nodded along to the advice Magnus was giving him. Slate got a clap on the shoulder, and they walked down the ramp toward the rest of us.
“Slate, take care of everyone, would you?” I asked. “And yourself.” I added the last bit, and he gave me a hard stare.
“I wish you were coming, boss,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything. They’re in good hands with this crew. We’ll make sure Patty gets where she needs to and talks some sense into them. If it’s the alternative, we’ll do what you said. Gather as much information as we can and relay it back.”
“Perfect.”
The trip would take them two months, with another month for any message to get back to us. Waiting that long was going to be next to impossible. My pulse quickened as I thought about the Shandra. Should I try to go to Earth? Sarlun had identified the icon for our home planet, but he did warn me they hadn’t tested it. It could be damaged, making it a one-way trip – or worse. Where would it open up? The unknown made it not only dangerous, but potentially deadly.
Patty arrived wearing a black uniform. The New Spero colony logo of a red sun behind a series of buildings was on a patch sewn onto the breast of the garment. It looked sharp.
“We’ll be in touch along the way,” Patty said to Magnus. “Take care of this place for me.”
I had the urge to disclose the Shandra then but kept it to myself. Slate knew about it, but he wasn’t going to break under pressure, no matter what they did to him. I tried to stop thinking about the worst-case scenario, but lately, that was all I seemed to find myself in.
A half hour later, we watched the ship lift up, then head away; the trip to Earth was under way.
“Godspeed,” Mary said under her breath, and I followed suit, wishing them a safe and uneventful journey.
“They’ll be okay. I have a feeling we’ll hear good news in a couple months.” This from Magnus. I was feeling the opposite but kept it to myself.
“How about we go into town and get some supplies for our garden?” Mary asked, anxious to get working on our little house and yard.
“Deal. See you later, Magnus? We still on for dinner?” I asked.
“As long as you guys are bringing cash for the poker game after.” Magnus and Natalia had invited a few couples from the area over, and since there was no currency on New Spero yet, I had no idea what we were buying into the game with. I had the clothes on my back, and not much more for possessions. “The dogs will be happy to see you both. Maybe Maggie can stay over again?”
Maggie had spent the other night over at our place, hogging the bottom of the bed and waking me up in the middle of the night to go outside. She was really sweet, and having an animal around felt right.
On the other hand, she belonged with her family too. “I know what you’re trying to do. Mag, I really am okay with Carey being with you guys.”
“It just must be so hard. You blinked and seven years went by. He still loves you.”
“I know he does. That’s why I’m happy he’s been able to grow old with people that love him too. I don’t think we’re ready to have another dog yet, but I’ll let Maggie stay over any time she wants.”
Magnus’ suit’s comm beeped, and he tapped his ear. “Good. Thanks for the update,” he said to whoever was on the other side of the conversation. “Our ship just passed the station. I have some work to do. See you two later.”
“Bye,” Mary said, leading the way off the landing pad and toward the SUV we’d been given. Having our own wheels and house was a strange feeling, especially since it was just ours. There were no payments, mortgages, or leases. We were just given the keys, and our names were on the database as owners of them. The rest of the colony participated in the bartering utopia of ideal socialism. I knew it had been tried before on Earth, and while the thought was good, it never worked out as hoped. Patty and the other leaders had high expectations about their colony world.
As we drove into town, the buildings got larger. The roads were paved, and traffic picked up heading into the core of Terran One. It was a couple hours after sunrise, and people were on their way to get supplies for their daily tasks or to work in one of the countless manufacturing plants or stores.
We stopped at an octagonal stop sign: some things were universal, even on another world. My window was down, letting the early morning air creep into the vehicle. The sounds of a six-story apartment complex being erected carried to us, and Mary commented on how lucky we were to have a house in the country.
“I think our days of city living are over,” I said, but as we drove on, we passed some quaint shops, coffee shops, and restaurants, and the idea of leaving your home to walk down the street for dinner did have a certain appeal. It was one of the things I’d always missed about being young and living in Manhattan.
“How have they accomplished this in just a few years?” Mary asked, staring at the impressive inner core of the city.
“I have no clue. I was expecting some metal buildings, cots set up with curtains to separate sleeping chambers, like a field hospital. Maybe not that bad, but you get where I’m going. It must have taken a lot of minds, a lot of work, to come up with plans for five cities.”
“Nat tells me they’re all on the same footprint.”
I thought about Terran Five and inwardly scolded myself for not noticing that. I blamed the exhaustion and the snow-covered streets. “That makes sense. Still…they’ve done something quite amazing.” I followed a white van and turned where it turned. It had Garden Supply painted on the back and sides, and that was where we were headed.
I parked, turning the engine off. “Babe, are you sure this is what you want?” I asked, looking at Mary in the passenger seat. She was in capris and a red tank top, her brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail. I was the luckiest man on New Spero.
I was already starting to sweat, finding we were in the middle of what passed for summer in our region.
“I want a garden, if that’s what you’re asking.” She pulled out her tablet, and she thumbed to the supply list she’d sent the store yesterday. “Should be ready to pick up.”
I set my hand on her left arm as her right reached for the door handle. “That’s not what I mean.”
She stopped, turning to meet my gaze. “Then what?”
“This. Do you want to live in a country house on a strange colony, living out our days tilling the soil and chopping wood?”
She didn’t speak for a minute. “Dean, I just want to be with you. I want the fear of an alien race coming to steal us, or kill us, or enslave us, gone first, though. Then I’m happy to sit on our porch, sipping sweet tea and watching you chop wood, while Mary Jr. plays with dolls beside me.”
I smiled. “Me too. If things go south with our friends at Earth, we have to do something.” I didn’t ask this time; I just said it matter-of-factly.
She nodded. “We will. I’ll be by your side.”
“Mary Jr.?” I laughed, and we got out of the car. “That sounds like a good life to me. Let’s get there and start by loading up a trailer with your garden supplies.”
“My garden supplies? Don’t think you’re going to put all of this on me.”
We walked through the large building’s front doors, which slid to the side as we stepped near them. It reminded me of the large orange box store I had in my hometown, and the comforting smell of wood and soil reached my nose.
There was a pick-up counter to the left, and we approached, waiting in line behind a large man talking to an employee.
“What do you mean, you don’t have any more four-by-eight cedar left? I need twenty to finish my job,” the burly man said, his voice rising.
“Sir, if you’ve noticed, we’re on New Spero, and our tree farms aren’t at full maturation yet. We’ll be happy to substitute oak in place. We still have oak.” The woman was keeping her cool but looked like she’d had about enough of the man berating her.
“Fine, but I’ll be talking to the council about this. Gave away all the damned cedar, even though I’d requisitioned it last month.” He turned from her and looked in our direction. “Can you believe this?”
So much for a utopia. I just shrugged, and we made our way to the woman. “I’d ask how your day’s going, but I think we know,” Mary said to the lady. “We sent our list in yesterday and are here to pick it up.”
“It’s true. You are here.” The forty-something-year-old woman’s eyes grew twice their size, and she nearly squealed. Her name was Tammy, according to the nametag. “Mary Lafontaine and Dean Parker. I heard from Sally that you were here, but I didn’t believe it. I thought it might be some propaganda to keep the people hopeful. But by golly, you’re here in the flesh. You both look so…amazing. Are the rumors true? You got married at an alien court and had to offer your firstborn to their leader to escape?”
I barked out a laugh, and Mary nudged me, suppressing her own laughter. “I have no idea where you’re getting that from, but I assure you…we only have to ‘lend’ our baby to the king for a year.”
Tammy’s eyes grew even larger, and I thought for a moment that they would pop out of her head. “Oh my God!”
“Tammy, relax. She was just kidding,” I assured the frantic woman. “Where did you hear that crazy story?”
She pulled out a stack of what looked like magazines. “From these,” she said, sliding them out like a deck of cards. They weren’t magazines; they were comics.
I grabbed one and read the title. “The Survivors of Earth” was scrawled across the top of the cover in black lettering. A silver ship chasing a dozen smaller, clearly made-up vessels across space, with a gray planet underneath, was the cover image. Red beams fired from the silver ship.
I thumbed it open and saw the artist’s rendition of Mary in a tight body suit. Her figure was modified to the ideals of a teenage boy, and now she did laugh when she saw it. The artist’s Dean looked older than I was; silver streaked the edges of his dark hair. The artwork was good, if not a little exaggerated.
“Can I take these? I’ll bring them back.” I asked, getting a nod from Tammy.
“Only if you sign them after,” she said.
“Sure. Oh, and who makes them?” I asked, looking for a name.
“Leonard. He works at the permits office. He started making these before we came here. Now he has tens of thousands of downloads a month for each new issue. He only prints a few, since paper has become harder to come by.”
“Thanks, Tammy. Now, where can we get our supplies?”