Planetfall Read Free Page A

load-bearing object in this messy structure.
    â€œI haven’t got any binoculars,” I say in the calmest voice I can muster. “Look at him again and tell me what he’s carrying.”
    â€œA pack, not a big one,” he replies after a few moments of scrutiny.
    â€œAny sign of a gun?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAny bulges around his midriff?”
    â€œWhat, like growths or—”
    â€œLike explosives,” I reply and he grimaces before looking back at him. “They wouldn’t have the tech for anything more subtle than something they could make from—”
    â€œNothing like that,” Mack cuts me off again.
    â€œDoes he look . . . I don’t know . . . angry?”
    Mack shakes his head. “He looks desperate. Oh, look at him.”
    The young man is waving both arms, like one lost at sea when sighting a chance of rescue. Mack looks at me, and when our eyes meet, we both know we can’t kill him.
    â€œShit,” I say and he nods. “Come on, then—let’s go bring him in. If we’re quick, we’ll get him to your house before anyone notices.”

2
    I HAVEN’T GONE out of this gate for a long time. There’s nothing on this side of the colony that interests me and the sensor net maintains itself. There are animals that range nearby sometimes, but they tend not to come any closer than the edge of the zone monitored by the long-range sensors. I agree with Kay’s theory that God’s city emits something that keeps them away, but she’s still looking into it all these years later. Like all of us, she gets distracted by other experiments. It’s low priority.
    â€œWhat do we say to him?” Mack asks, dragging my focus back to the young man.
    â€œI was going to start with hello and then see how it goes,” I reply. I’m trying to sound light and relaxed because I don’t want to push the magma chamber of unspoken shit into an eruption. I’m barely handling it as it is.
    â€œHe must have been born after Planetfall,” he says, his pace fast but steady. “He doesn’t look old enough to have been born on the ship and there weren’t any babies in their pods.”
    â€œSmall mercies,” I whisper and thankfully he doesn’t hear. When I glance at him to check whether he’s looking pissed off at me, I see the sweat on his forehead and how white his lips are against the black of his beard. “Are you sure he’s alone?”
    He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I checked that.”
    â€œBut you didn’t see him coming.”
    â€œI haven’t checked on them for a long time. I thought . . .”
    He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken half lingers between us. We thought they were dead. We thought we had killed them.
    The urge to turn around and go home and tell everyone to fuck off until it’s all over bears down on me. I can feel guilt and fear and ten thousand questions I’ve asked myself since Planetfall rising up with the contents of my stomach and I want all of it to stay deep down where it should be.
    â€œWe stick to the story,” he says with the firm edge in his voice that means he’s made up his mind and it’s not up for discussion.
    â€œBut he’ll know what really happened.”
    â€œStick to the story,” Mack says again and I don’t have anything else to say. There are too many unknown variables to make any useful predictions and I try not to speculate these days. “Let me do the talking,” he adds.
    As if I wouldn’t do that anyway. He’s the Ringmaster. He knows what to say to the crowd and to the latecomer without a ticket. I just maintain the rigging and make sure the tent doesn’t collapse on us all.
    The sky is now the same deep blue as that of a Mediterranean summer and when I look straight up and see a couple of clouds I can almost believe