I’m confident that they’ll be well taken care of. With Lord va’Rin’s help, they’ll have a future, at least. He’s thought of everything. Each clone colony will be given supplies in which to establish their new home, along with a pilot and a crew who will assist them with their needs. The clones have been chipped with scramblers that will ensure their locations will be impossible to pinpoint by modern equipment, and only Lord va’Rin and his people will know where they’re settling.
It’s all going to be done very quietly, and not even the people that live in Port will be aware of the situation. Only a handful will be joining those already settled there.
I’m at the Port docks, overseeing the environmental supplies being loaded onto the Little Sister. I don’t like that I’m not going with Kas and Adi as they do initial repairs, but Lord va’Rin is swamped and needs my assistance right now. Plus, there are a few other orders that have to be completed before we can fully move into our new home, which Helen is calling the Second Star.
I like it.
Kaspar carries a crate of air filters onto the Little Sister, grumbling as I check it off the list. “I just put a keffing crate of filters on her. How many do we need?”
“To set up the station? Six. And you’d better not cut corners. This is air your mate will be breathing,” I remind him. “The environmentals have to be perfect.”
He makes a face at me but heads up the ramp with the crate, because he knows I’m right. All I have to do to keep Kas on the straight and narrow now is to mention that Alice needs something, and Kaspar snaps to it. He’ll make a good father after all, I think.
“Ho there,” calls out an unfamiliar voice. “You have any carcinogels on you? I’m dying for a puff.”
I turn to the older mesakkah female marching up to me. She’s wearing a dark bodysuit, with one of Lord va’Rin’s house symbols pinned to the breast. There’s a weapon-belt slung at her bony waist, and her mane is nearly completely gray. Her face is hard and cynical, but she smiles at me in a friendly manner. “Sorry,” I tell her. “I don’t have any.”
“Keffing hells,” she mutters, snapping her fingers. “I was hoping another mesakkah crew might have one or two I can bum. You know they don’t sell a single carcinogel on this planet? It’s rough out here for a pilot.” She shakes her head. “Thanks anyhow.”
I eye her with curiosity. The ship on the dock nearest to the Little Sister looks a little worse for wear, but the cargo hold is of an impressive size. “That your ship?”
“It is. The Tenacious Lady. She’s hard to kill, just like her captain.” The female gives me a smirk, her face creasing with wrinkles. “Not the prettiest ship, but she’s mine.”
As I watch, one of the specially marked crates that carries the clone cargo heads for the female’s ship. Ah. “You one of the crew leaders that Lord va’Rin hired recently?”
She tucks her thumbs into the front of her bodysuit, showing me the house symbol there. “That’s me. Name’s Niri. I do a lot of smaller runs in this area but Lord va’Rin’s paying well, I’ve got med experience in case there’s any trouble, and I’m good at keeping my mouth shut.” She gives me a sly smile. “So don’t bother asking where I’m taking my cargo.”
“I wouldn’t ask,” I reassure her. “It’s hard enough out there for those under Lord va’Rin’s protection. Better that no one in the galaxy knows where they’re located, myself included.” I think of Helen, and our abandoned-looking mining station that we’re going to make into a home. “In fact, the less that know, the better.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Niri says, her eyes gleaming. “And trust me, this old female knows exactly the spot where they’ll never be found. Don’t you worry about that.”
“Good luck,” I tell her, and I mean it. It’s time for everyone to start the next chapter of their lives, clones included.
EPILOGUE
HELEN
MONTHS LATER
I’m painting a flower onto a wall when Alice bursts into the room. “Helen!” she screeches, her eyes wide and frantic. “Sterre’s giving birth!”
“What?” I drop my paintbrush into the little pot of bright blue paint and race across the room toward Alice. She’s got a hand on her rounded belly, panting, and her eyes are wide and frantic. “You’re sure? It’s not a false alarm?”
“This time I’m sure,” Alice says, waving at me. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I follow behind Alice through the narrow corridors of the Second Star. Our home has been undergoing a slow transformation ever since we moved in. At first, everything was gray and dusty and broken-down, and I’m pretty sure Alice cried for a week because she didn’t like the place, and it made poor Kaspar nervous. Me, personally, I like the comfortingly tight metal halls and the fact that each ceiling is visible. It makes me feel safe and protected while I’m in here. Alice likes the outdoors more, but me, I love the feeling of the station.