The Dark Between The Stars

FIFTY-TWO
GARRISON REEVES

Taking Seth with him in his repaired ship, Garrison left Rendezvous and his sour memories behind. The clan engineers had completed the overhaul on the battered Iswander vessel, repaired the engines, fixed the hull, and provided a fresh alloy coating.

They also painted over the Iswander Industries logo and renamed the ship Prodigal Son. Olaf Reeves hadn’t asked Garrison for his approval, but the name did seem oddly appropriate. His father wanted him to carry the reminder with him, and Garrison embraced the Prodigal Son as his identity and as his ship.

Now he needed to find a new life for himself. For a man of his background and abilities, there were numerous options, but Garrison wanted to find a stable place and make sure he could send his son to Academ. Previously, Elisa had shut down the idea whenever Garrison suggested it, no matter how badly Seth wanted to go there. He had done his best to teach Seth what he could during their evenings off shift, while Elisa had arranged for computer tutoring on Sheol. She had thought that was enough. But their son longed to be with other Roamer children—and, of course, all the compies.

With Elisa gone and Sheol devastated, however, Garrison was starting from scratch. Aboard the Prodigal Son after Seth was asleep in his bunk, he pored over images of the Sheol disaster. The public records of the catastrophe were disjointed and uncertain, many parts censored. Even so, the images were so horrific he could barely watch. Those people had been his friends and coworkers. Fifteen hundred and forty-three workers had lost their lives.

He heard a gasp and a quick sob behind him, and realized that Seth had been watching silently over his shoulder. Garrison blanked the screen, but his son stayed where he was. “No, I want to see what happened there.”

Garrison could not shield his son from the reality of what had happened, nor could he sanitize the images. Seth had been through an ordeal, and needed to know why his father had been desperate to take him away from Sheol. Garrison muted the sound and showed some of the general images so Seth would understand…

Garrison decided to apply for a job mining and shepherding the rubble belt of Earth’s ruined Moon. When he sent his application to the Lunar Orbital Complex, the work crew supervisors saw his qualifications and hired him without hesitation. His father would have been particularly infuriated that Garrison was working for Earth. He could almost hear Olaf’s voice: “I didn’t give you skills and expertise so you could help Those People out of the problems they created for themselves.”

Garrison would have pointed out that few people on Earth had any influence on why the faeros had destroyed the Moon, but that was an argument his father never would have let him win. Fortunately, clan Reeves was pulling up roots and heading away from civilization. Olaf would never know.

After his work briefing in the lunar rubble belt, Garrison moved into a company-provided habitation unit in the civilian section of the Lunar Orbital Complex. Although concessions were made to allow for daycare and schooling, most LOC workers either had other arrangements or no families at all. That was all right; Garrison didn’t expect Seth to remain there long.

His son searched for new educational loops recorded by Orli Covitz and her Friendly compy DD. Garrison had begun to realize how much Seth enjoyed them, counted on them as distant friends even on Sheol where there were no other children, and while he traveled alone with his father. Seth seemed disappointed. “I think Orli stopped making the loops. I haven’t found a new one in a long time. Do you think something happened to DD?” He was genuinely worried.

“A lot of things can happen in a person’s life,” Garrison said. “Relleker is far away, though, and we have no way of knowing.”

Soon, Seth would be much happier. Garrison told his son the news after he finished filing all the proper forms. “It’s set, Seth. We’ll stay here another two days while I finish my work arrangements, and then I’ll fly us off to Newstation. You’re already approved.”

Seth beamed. “Academ? I’m going to be with the Teacher compies?”

“And the other Roamer children.”

His son was visibly thrilled. “But will it be all right? I could help you with your work here. I know how to suit up, and how to drive a cargo pod and operate machinery. That’s all you need.”

He didn’t doubt Seth was as qualified as many of the workers assigned to the LOC worksites. “Yes, but it’s not all you need, and you’ll learn a lot more with intensive Roamer instruction. I need you to be educated, not just trained. Training will only get you so far. Education will make you wise.”

“Grandfather Olaf said experience makes you wise.”

“That too,” Garrison admitted. “But let’s get you an education before you experience too many things. You need friends your own age.” He softened his voice, “Your grandfather did say one true thing—a knife loses its edge unless it is sharpened.”

“And I’ll get my edge at Academ?”

Nodding, Garrison realized that he needed to get his own edge back too. He called up images of the Roamer school and showed Seth the interior of the hollowed-out comet, where waterfalls flowed from all directions with wental-charged water. From the sparkle in the boy’s eyes, Garrison knew he had made the right decision.