“My children live here,” Basia said, interrupting.
“What?” Cate said, looking genuinely puzzled. She’d been mid-sentence when he spoke up. “I don’t —”
“The bodies that we take pictures of to send to the newscasts,” Basia continued. “Those are our children. My children.”
Cate blinked at him, too puzzled to be angry yet.
“Como?”
“I wanted to come here and maybe talk you out of doing something stupid,” Basia said, standing up and addressing the room. “I thought maybe with Coop gone, we could put an end to this. But this isn’t just stupid anymore. Not when you can talk about dead friends and family as media tools. That’s evil. And I can’t be part of it.”
The room was silent again, except for the sand and the cooling windows and the breathing.
“If you try to get in our way —” Ibrahim started, but Basia wheeled to face the man.
“What?” he said, getting close enough that his breath stirred the whiskers in Ibrahim’s thin beard. “If I get in your way what? Don’t make half a threat, macho.”
Ibrahim was smaller than him. He lowered his eyes and said nothing. Basia felt a brief moment of shameful relief that it was Ibrahim who had chosen to press the issue, not Cate. Basia was afraid of Cate. He’d never have been able to stand up to her.
“Dui,” he said, backing away and nodding to them all. “Gone now.”
They began talking in hushed tones after the door closed behind him, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. It made the back of his neck itch. He wondered if he’d gone too far, and if they’d be content with just killing him and not Lucia too.
Halfway home he ran into two of the RCE security people walking patrol. Two women in heavy body armor that made them look bulky and dangerous. One of them, a fair-skinned woman with raven-black hair, nodded at him as he walked past. Everything about her was a threat: the armor, the large assault rifle she cradled in her arms, the stun grenades and wrist restraints hanging on her belt. Her friendly smile looked wildly out of place. Basia couldn’t stop himself from picturing her bleeding out in the street, shot in the back by one of his friends.
Lucia was waiting on their porch, sitting cross-legged on a large pillow and drinking something that steamed in the night air. Not tea. They had almost none of it left. Probably just hot water with a bit of lemon flavoring. But even the artificial flavorings would soon be gone unless they were given permission to begin trading their ore.
Basia sat down on the hard carbon fiber floor next to her with a thump.
“So?” Lucia asked.
“They won’t listen.” Basia sighed. “They’re talking about killing the RCE people. All of them. And Jim Holden and his people too.”
Lucia shook her head, a gentle negation. “And you?”
“At this point, they may be talking about killing me too. I don’t think they will as long as I don’t get in their way. But I can’t take part. I told them so. I’m so sorry I let it get this far, Lucy. I’m a very stupid man.”
Lucia gave him a sad smile, and put her hand on his arm. “Not doing anything now keeps you on their side.”
Basia frowned. The night air still held the earthy smell of the recent dust storm. A graveyard scent. “I can’t stop them by myself.”
“Holden is here to do that. He’s back from whatever he was doing out in the desert with the science teams. You could talk to him.”
“I know,” Basia said, admitting what he’d already been thinking. The fact that it was necessary didn’t make it feel like any less of a betrayal of his friends. “I know. I will.”
Lucia laughed her relief. At Basia’s puzzled look, she grabbed him in her arms and pulled him close. “I’m so happy to know that the Basia I love is still in there.”
Basia relaxed into her embrace, letting himself feel safe and loved for a moment.
“Baz,” Lucia whispered in his ear.
Don’t say anything that will ruin this moment, he thought.
“Felcia is leaving on the shuttle for the Barbapiccola. Now. Tonight. I gave her permission.”
Basia pulled himself away, holding Lucia at arm’s length. “She’s doing what?”
Lucia frowned at him, and gripped his upper arms tightly. “Let her go.” There was a warning in her voice.
Basia pulled himself free and leaped to his feet. Lucia called after him, but he was already running down the road toward the landing site as fast as his legs would carry him.
His relief when he saw the shuttle still sitting there was so powerful he almost collapsed. One of the colony’s electric carts whizzed by, nearly running him over in the dark. The bed of the cart was filled with ore. They were still loading the shuttle. He had time.
Felcia stood a few meters from the airlock, a suitcase in each hand, chatting with the pilot. They were in a bright pool of illumination cast by the work lights surrounding the ship, and her dark olive skin seemed to glow. Her black hair hung about her face and down her back in loose waves. Her eyes and mouth were wide as she spoke on some topic that excited her.
In that moment, his daughter was so beautiful it made Basia’s chest ache. When she spotted him, her face lit up with a smile. Before she could speak, Basia wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight.
“Papa,” she said, worry in her voice.
“No, baby, it’s okay,” he shook his head against her cheek. “I didn’t come to stop you. I only… I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”
His cheek felt wet. Felcia was crying. He held her by the shoulders and pushed her away to look at her face. His little girl, all grown up but crying in his arms. He couldn’t help but see the four-year-old she’d once been, weeping when she fell and hurt her knee.
“Papa,” she said, her voice thick. “I was worried you would hate me for going. But Mama said —”
“No, baby, no.” Basia hugged her again. “You go, and when they let the ship leave, you go to Ceres and become a doctor and have a fantastic life.”
“Why?”
Because the people here see your death as a tool for winning a public opinion battle. Because I’ve lost all the children I ever plan to lose. Because I can’t have you see me when they finally arrest me.
“Because I love you, baby,” he said instead. “And I want you to go be amazing.”
She hugged him, and for that one moment, all was right in the universe again. Basia watched as she boarded, stopping just inside the airlock to wave and blow him a kiss. He watched as they loaded the last of the ore into the cargo compartment. He watched as the shuttle lifted off with a roar and wash of heat.