Simona winked. "Someday perhaps. The sun to your back, Imala."
"And to yours," said Imala.
Simona left them then and sealed the umbilical door behind her.
Imala buckled into the pilot's seat, entered a few commands into the console, and turned on the virtual windshield.
Victor climbed into the copilot's seat beside her. "You sure you know how to fly this thing? I thought you were an auditor."
She threw more switches and punched in more commands. "My father's a pilot back in Arizona. He did everything he could to convince me to follow in his footsteps. Flying lessons, low-grav flight training. He even took me on an orbiting shuttle cruise when I was a kid and talked the pilot into letting me take the helm for a few minutes. I think he thought I'd have some magical experience that would convince me to pursue piloting. I broke his heart when I told him I wanted to work in tax and tariffs."
"A far cry from flying."
"And not the most glamorous of careers either, in his opinion. What can I say? Macroeconomics and financial structures fascinate me. My father called it a 'cataclysmic mistake.'" She smiled. "You have to know my father. He's not the most open-minded of men. He even tried to marry me off to another Apache to keep me from coming to Luna. A real tribesman like my father. Pride of the people and all that. Preserving our heritage.
"Despite all that, though, I really liked the guy. If my father hadn't been the one to introduce us and if he hadn't been pushing the whole thing, I'm not sure what would have happened. My mother said I broke it off to spite my father, which is probably true. When I left home, it wasn't a fond farewell. My dad and I both said a few things we probably shouldn't have."
"Is that why you're not going back to Arizona? Is that why you're coming with me?"
"I'm coming with you, Victor, because you shouldn't do this alone and because I think the world owes it to you."
"It's not your debt to pay, Imala. I got here on my own, remember? I'm not helpless."
"Yes, but what you seem to forget is that you nearly wasted away to nothing and you've failed miserably on your own ever since you arrived. If I hadn't helped, you'd still be stuck in the recovery hospital awaiting trial, with the world none the wiser about what's coming."
Victor put his feet up on the dash and his hands behind his head. "My hero. Whatever would I do without you?"
"Not much," said Imala.
The anchors detached, and Imala pulled the shuttle up and away from the terminal.
Victor sat up, suddenly serious. "Are you sure about this, Imala? This is a year-long trip. Six months out, six months back."
"I can do the math, Victor."
"Yes, but you're being rushed into this. It's not too late to change your mind."
"You're saying you don't want the company?"
"No, I'm saying this is a sacrifice you don't have to make."
"I can't stay on Luna, Victor. And I'm not going home. If I go home, I'm useless. Here, I can do something. I may not be able to stop the hormiga ship, but I can contribute in some small way. Will you let me do that please? Will you at least give me that courtesy?"
He smiled and pushed off the seat, weightless now. "On one condition: My family calls me Vico for short. If we're going to be in this can for six months, we should at least treat each other like family."
She grinned, testing the sound of the word. "Vico. I'll see if I can remember that."
*
They flew for seven days toward Last Chance, a small supply depot that was the last stop in this quadrant for those traveling to the Belt. From here, crews could anticipate several months and two hundred million kilometers of nothing. Victor and Imala didn't need supplies, but they were desperate for news. Their shuttle had lost contact with Luna after the first day because of the interference, and they had no idea what preparations Earth and Luna had made since then.
As they approached the depot, still several hours away, Victor said, "You realize of course that in all likelihood the ships docked at this place are going to know less about what's going on than we do. They won't have had communication for the same reason we don't. They'll be pumping us for information, not the other way around."
"Probably," agreed Imala. "But our shuttle is hardly the fastest thing out here. Maybe there are ships at the depot that left Luna after us and arrived before us. In which case they might know something we don't."
The shuttle's flight data said that Last Chance had ten docking stations with umbilicals, but when the depot came into view, Victor saw that there were at least four times that many ships clustered around it.
"It's packed," said Victor. "No way we're getting on board."