Planetfall Read Free

down to the Masher’s hub is only a couple of meters from my home. At least if he’s looking out for me, I’ll come from the right direction. A few early risers might be mooching around inside their pods, but it’s too early to be outside and social. The hatch drops back into place and locks automatically, the seam between it and the path already fading as the gap is filled by the repair cells already growing.
    It’s cool, with a gentle breeze, and if I try hard enough I can imagine it’s the edge of Paris in late April. I keep my head down and look at the crystal beneath my feet. I think about when Pasha grew this path, when we debated the most efficient mechanisms to make it durable but not slippery when wet. I remember printing the lattice underneath that he used as a base to train the crystal and keep it exactly where we wanted it. I remember the arguments over the color it should be and that twat whose name I can never recall asking if we could engineer it to look like it was made of yellow bricks. I had to look that up on the cloud. He was a pop culture historian and that was his contribution to the colony aesthetic? Why did the Ringmaster approve his place on the ship?
    And then I see it: the western gate. Nothing more than acouple of symbolic pillars designed by Pasha’s wife, Neela. I like her style; it’s simple and elegant. I helped her to print them, but she thought them up. She liked the freedom given by the fact that no one cared about them on that side of our settlement; it was the side farthest away from God’s city.
    Mack is standing there, the only other person out and about at this time, looking away from the colony. I can see the mountains in the distance and the vast plains between. The figure he’s watching is probably half a kilometer away, hunched over and moving slowly. The landscape is still relatively wild beyond the gate, with long grasslike plants.
    â€œDo you know who it is?” I ask as I approach, more to signal that I’m there than anything else.
    â€œA man, in his early twenties or so,” he replies. “The proximity alarm woke me up. I thought it was an animal.”
    The man is staggering toward the colony. “Is he sick?”
    â€œNo obvious symptoms. Look for yourself.”
    I shake my head. “I disabled the zoom in my lens. It gives me migraines and—”
    â€œHe must be from the others,” he says, not interested in me and my nervous babbling. “One of their kids. He must have walked for weeks.”
    My palms are slick with sweat and I want to go home. “What do you want me to do?”
    He turns and looks at me for the first time, a slight twitch around his left eye indicating he’s switching to normal focal range. He’s looking haggard with the stress of it all. Mack hates the unexpected almost as much as I do, but his clothes are smart, his black hair tidy and his beard neat. He has to present himself at his best, even when he thinks there’s just an animal to scare off the boundary.
    â€œDo you think we should shoot him?” he asks, looking down at the gun resting on his palm, like a child he was holding has just crapped in his hand.
    â€œWhy are you asking me that? Why not Zara? Or Nabiha or Ben? They—”
    â€œBecause you were there.”
    I close my eyes and I think about the vase I left on top of the Masher. I think about whose printer is likely to break down next and remind myself not to mention that I knew it was going to happen; otherwise—
    â€œRen. What if he’s here to ruin everything we’ve done here?”
    â€œ
We’ve
done?” It comes out like a croak.
    â€œYes,
we
.” His voice hardens. “Should I shoot him and make sure he—”
    â€œOh for fuck’s sake, Mack, I’m an engineer! Not your conscience!”
    His mouth drops open at my outburst and I regret the words. He just doesn’t want to be the only