The Children Star Read Free Page B

arms. The little bundles stiffened, then emptied their lungs to howl. Overhead, upside down in the cylinder, two or three travelers stretched their necks at this unusual scene. A gorilla face stared down at Rod; a simian hybrid woman wearing a student’s backpack. Rod stared back, for simians were a rarity out here.
    Beneath Rod’s feet the floor shifted sickeningly. That meant the lock had engaged, and they now stood in the innermost ring of Station. The babies sucked in their breaths and wailed.
    â€œBrother Geode, immigration officer of the Spirit Colony.” Station’s voice boomed, ever-present within the satellite. “Six new colonists?”
    â€œYes, Station.” Geode bounced the three infants in his arms, trying to quiet them.
    â€œYou exceed your quota again.”
    â€œYes, Station.”
    It was Rod’s fault that they always pushed the immigration limit. In his days at the Guard, he had always tried to steal one last round of shooting beyond regulations; now, he always took one more dying child. “They’re all healthy,” Rod insisted. “They’ll be productive citizens.”
    â€œAnd one is an older child,” Station observed. “Brother Geode, you will see me for consultation.”
    â€œI will,” Rod said firmly. They always got away with it before.
    â€œPlease sign the release for each.”
    On the wall a bright rectangle appeared, its text scrolling past absurdly fast. Rod had no need to read the contents. The release form required all immigrants to acknowledge that Prokaryon’s biosphere was only partly understood,and its climate not yet controlled, and that the appearance of any plague threatening the Fold might require defensive action—before all inhabitants could be evacuated. Rod despised the provision, and its authors in the Fold Council, who feared another prion plague. Prions arose from human bodies, not from a world where humans could barely live.
    Geode held up his infants to press the document with their toes, and Rod did likewise.
    â€œReverend Mother is coming,” said Geode. Sentients communicated by internal radio.
    At the gate stood the Reverend Mother Artemis. Her face was a screen across which her “features” shaped and reshaped in ever-changing colors. Her sapphire star gleamed where a human neck would be. Around her face twined restless strands of nanoplastic “hair,” as if individually alive. Below her neck hung multiple breasts, and her robe revealed skirts full of holographic bears, lions, even flying fish from the Elysian ocean. Children were her life-work, ever since she herself had been manufactured to raise wealthy Elysians. After earning her freedom as a sentient, she had joined the Sacred Order.
    The Reverend Mother’s nanoplastic hand traced a six-point star. “Brother Rod. You return with your nets full.” She took the two little ones, who quieted as they stared.
    Rod returned the sign. “I wish it could be otherwise.”
    â€œSo do we all.” Strands of her hair twisted upward. “We call on the Spirit to hear the agony of the L’liites. But this mystery has endless depth and no shore.”
    â€œHow are the children back home?”
    â€œAll well, thank the Spirit. The phycoids are ready for harvest, and T’kun found a perfect pink crystal in the stream.”
    â€œWell, we bring you future harvesters.”
    Geode warned in Elysian, “One of them will cost us a bundle.”
    â€œAnd which
one
would that be?” The Reverend Mother scooped up another infant from him. “Which one would you refuse?”
    â€™jum was watching her skirt, mesmerized by the rearing bear. Rod squeezed ’jum’s hand encouragingly. “This is the Reverend Mother of the Spirit Colony of Prokaryon. You will be our own child.”
    The Reverend Mother spread her arms and spoke in clear L’liite. “ ’jum G’hana, are you my