Choices by Tara OShea

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Walman felt like he'd stepped right out of one of the old vids, as he polished the bar with a soft cloth, watching the door. It was still early, no reason to expect a crowd, but since the colonists had arrived he ha been getting the curious wandering in. And wandering out again.

Okay, so it wasn't fancy. No brass rails on this bar, no rack of glasses above his head, and not even a mirror behind. At least, none of that yet. But he had plans for this place. Big plans.

Walman had done just about everything back on the Stations, before ending up Security Personnel with Eden Project. You name it, he' tried it. Tending bar had just about been the best thing he'd ever done, but there just wasn't enough money in it back home to make it a viable career, not when Ms. Devon Adair could pay him twice what he had made in port bars serving synthetics to just stand around with a mag-pro and look foreboding.

He could do that. He had done that, upon occasion. But all that had changed the moment they'd crashed on G889, and he for one was glad, because standing around with a mag-pro, looking foreboding, got *dull*. He liked the bar. He liked talking to people, and listening to people, and he really liked making beer.

There was just something about real beer, made from real barley, and real hops, and good water. Synthetics had never quite captured it, and the real stuff on the Stations had been so expensive as to be almost non-existent. Grain from the hydroponics labs couldn't be wasted on beverages.

Sheila Willis appeared at the foot of the stairs leading upstairs to the Eden Advance's quarters with Alonzo Solace trailing behind her. She was frowning. She took the corner table, and balanced the chair on two legs out of habit, staring across at Alonzo, who preferred to turn his chair around and straddle it, resting his chin on his crossed arms.

"Okay, so you're telling me that you're like, what? Some kind of link now? A shaman?"

"No. I just dream with them."
"But what does that mean? Do you understand what I'm getting at? That's a foreign concept to most people, Ace."

"Not to the Terrians. Dreaming is the most natural thing in the world. It's how they communicate with each other, and the planet."

Sheila just shook her head. "The planet talks," she said incredulously.

"It's their mother." Alonzo tried to explain, but it was just so frustrating, because he didn't have the words. There was so much about this place that he didn't have the words for, and he'd never had to try and find them before. He was beginning to suspect that none existed.

"Oh come on, Mother Earth?" Sheila laughed, remembering the days of eco-terrorists and crystal waving chanting neo-hippies. That had been their battle cry, back when things planetside were rapidly heading straight to hell in a hand basket, and everyone who could afford to had bailed in favour of the Stations. "Isn't that kind of thinking a little outdated, even for you?"

"It's not a cliche here, a figure of speech, it's just the way things are."

"I'll take a C-class freighter and the wind at my back over a sentient dirtball any day, Ace. Sorry." Sheila laughed.

"So you're still going?" Alonzo took a long sip of his beer, and regarded her curiously. She gave him a funny look.

"Of course I'm still going. Unless you're gonna pay my freight, I still have a living to earn."

"I thought you were going to retire off this one." "I'll sleep when I'm dead. For now, there's still too much I want to see. Aren't you even the slightest bit curious to see what's happened back on the Stations?"

"Nah, I tend to write off people who try to blow me up." he leaned back in his chair, and called over his shoulder, "Hey Walman, can I have another beer?"

"If you help me repair the refrigeration system in the storeroom tomorrow morning, you've got a deal." Walman continued to polish the already gleaming bar.

"You drive a hard bargain, man." Alonzo shook his head, his dimples showing as he smiled. Women from NorthAm Spaceport to Uranus Substation had carried the memory of that smile to their beds and their graves in the last ninety-odd years. "How 'bout Sheila here? On the house?"

"Yeah, since she's leaving before I can scam any reasonable amout of work out of her." Walman grinned, and the pilot merely groaned.

"Don't tell me you guys don't use money out here." "Not much point in it, what're we gonna buy?" Walman set down two cold tin mugs of homebrew, and sipped his own, leaning against the bar.

"Careful, this is the real stuff," Walman cautioned Sheila as she lifted the mug to her lips.

"Mom?" Miko stood in the doorway and saw her mother bent over a console, oblivious to her presence. "Oka-san?" She switched to Japanese, and achieved the desired result as out of habit Hanako's head snapped up.

Yoshi had been so proud of speaking Japanese, a tongue which along with its people had almost died out after The Great Disaster in 2065, when tsunamis destroyed all of the archipelago's cities on Honshu, Shikoku and Kyushu, and with them, almost a billion people. Miko knew enough to get by, but whenever she heard "Oka-san" Hanako looked for her son.

In vain, for her son.
"Mom, are you okay?" Miko put a hand on her shoulder, but Hanako shook her off with a smile.

"They came today," she said, as if she had finally been able to process the information. She seemed more alert today than she had been since they stepped off the colony ship, and Miko took that to be a good sign.

"Who came?"
"The Terrians, they came to see the children." "I missed it!" Miko exclaimed, folding herself into a chair, looking vexed. "I wanted to see them."

"Where have you been?" Hanako blinked, realising her daughter was streaked with dirt and sweat, and had a new tear in those awful grey pants she used to paint in.

"True took me around in the ATV, she showed me the whole settlement."

"I don't want you straying far, Miko-chan." "Mom, there's not far to stray, not unless I walk into the sea. It's okay."

"It is not 'okay'. If I tell you not to stray far, that is not a request."

"Hai, oka-san." Miko sighed, pushing her bangs off her forehead. "Are the Terrians going to heal the children soon?"

"I do not know. It is the doctors' decision." "No it's not, it's the kids decision," Miko protested, but her mother held up a hand for silence. Out of habit, Miko obeyed.

"There is much about this new world we do not know, Dr. Vasquez knows what he is doing."

"Does he?" Miko said sharply and then bit her lip, as her mother's face fell, wishing for all the world she could snatch back the words.

And nothing could stop the words that were left unspoken. *Then why couldn't he save Yoshi?* "I will see you at dinner," Hanako turned back to the computer screen, and Miko left.

"That was completely uncalled for, Marshall." Devon paced in her office, fury straightening her spine and giving a dangerous edge to her movements. But Taggert was not cowed. He simply continued to stare at her, trying in vain to stare her down.

"I told you--"
"Yes, you have told me. And now I'm going to tell you something. Max is seven years old, no syndrome child has ever lived past eight. You came her because you trusted me--"

"I came here because Dr. Vasquez believed that in a natural environment, he could treat and possibly cure the Syndrome. None of this mystical bond with the planet crap! I will not turn my son over to aliens to mutate into one of them. I won't have him become like Uly."

"What did you just say?" Devon's voice went flat and cold, but Taggert ignored the warning there.

"You heard me. Your son isn't human any more. I've seen him with those... things."

"That is enough!" Devon exploded, and Taggert blinked. "You are wrong about my son. And if you can't see the truth, then Max is the one who will suffer for it, not you, or me. Is that really what you want? The Terrians can give him back the life that the Stations stole."

"No. I've spoken to Dr. Vasquez, and he thinks that using natural pharmaceuticals your Dr. Heller has pioneered as models, he can synthesise drugs that make the Syndrome treatable, and eventually curable."

"He hasn't spoken to me about this." "Of course he hasn't, you can't see beyond what these Terrians of yours have done for your son. And by the time you, do it will be too late."

"How long have we known each other, Marshall? Six years? Can't we work this out without shouting and threats?"

"I don't know you any more, Devon. And obviously you don't know me."

"You're just scared--"
"No, I'm not afraid. I'm cautious. And there's a world of difference." Taggert stormed out of the room, and Devon sank into her chair, resting her forehead against the heel of her hand, and forcing her breathing back to normal, tried to still the pounding of her heart.

She wasn't supposed to be fighting with these people, she was supposed to be helping them.

And they were supposed to let her.

Sheila flopped down on her bed, and blinked as the world spun. "I forgot what the real stuff is like." She looked up at Alonzo standing in the doorway, and patted the bed next to her. He shook his head. "I don't bite. Unless you're into that kind of thing."

"Sheila, you're amazing."
"And I'm going to need my rest, so you and your pretty doctor had better keep it down tonight. These walls are like paper you know, and as much as I enjoyed the free show last night--my God, you're blushing. The great Alonzo Solace is blushing like a virgin!"

"Knock it off, Sheila." Alonzo decided he shouldn't have had that beer, and tried to will his cheeks to stop flaming. It was one thing when Danziger or Walman kidded him about his sex life, when Sheila was involved, he just wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

"Are you kidding? Wait till I tell Cassidy. Assuming he's still around after fifty years." She rolled on her back, still giggling.

"Send me a holovid." Alonzo laughed, and she rolled over onto her stomach, dark hair falling in her eyes.

"Come back with me."

Jack threw a stone, and watched it skip on the waves. Three times. Sasha would have laughed at him, and insisted she could make one skip seven.

He pulled off his sweater and tied it around his waist, reaching down for another smooth flat stone.

"Six, you'll see, Sasha," he murmured under his breath as he threw it, and he could swear he heard her tinkling laughter as it sank.

Turning around he saw Miko watching him, pantlegs rolled up and wiggling her toes happily in the sand.

"Hey," he called, sticking his hands deep in his pockets and shuffling over to her.

"Did you see the horses?"
"Not yet. They have horses?"
"Four of them. Sheep are next."
"That's exciting."
"Gee, don't overwhelm me with your enthusiasm here." Miko perched on a piece of driftwood, trailing her toes in the foam at the edge of the surf.

"Why bother?" Jack shrugged, looking out at the waves, squinting in the sunlight. "I won't be around long enough to see any of them." Miko's head snapped up.

"Your dad?"
He nodded. "We're heading back on the colony ship next week." "Can't you... can't you get him to let you stay?" "Are you kidding? I'm all they have left, they won't even let me out of their sight."

"But in three months you'll be eighteen. You can chose to stay as in independent."

"It'll be too late, I'll be in coldsleep." "You can't go." Miko crossed her arms and frowned. He couldn't leave. He just couldn't.

"Thanks, I'll let him know. I'm sure he wouldn't risk your wrath. I can picture it now. 'Well, Dad, I'd love to say yes, but Miko says no way. So of course I'll be staying now.' That would go over like a lead balloon."

"But what do you want, Jack? Forget them for a second, be selfish for just one moment of your life. What do *you*, Jack Christenson, want?"

"I want my sister back!" Jack shouted, and Miko took an involuntary step back. "I want things to be the way they were. No, I take that back, I want them to be the way they are *supposed to be*. I came halfway across the universe for her, and she never even set foot on the planet, until we put her six feet under. I want to show her the sunsets, and make up names for new constellations above our heads. I want to see her run and play, without that damn immunosuit. I want to hear her laugh without coughing. I want to hear her call my name, and I want to hold her hand, and I don't want her to be dead."

He was screaming now, and Miko flinched, but held her ground. He fell to his knees suddenly, planting his hands in the sand and letting the tears fall and make tiny brown splotches in the fine white sand. He felt her hand on his shoulder, and buried his face in her stomach. She stroked his hair, and the waves crashed behind them.

"Is that so much to ask?" he whispered, and she could feel tears pricking her own eyes. "My God, is that so much?"

Julia climbed the stairs to her room slowly, each step taking more effort than it should have. She felt like her limbs were made of lead, and all she could think about was how nice her bed was going to feel once she fell into it. The children had gotten overexcited, and it had taken hours to get them all calmed down. Then she had been fairly interrogated once more by Vasquez and the other members of the team. No one was letting those children go anywhere until all the questions were answered, and she was afraid they might never be.

Shedding the Doctor Clothes and padding around the room in undershirt and leggings, Julia stood before the mirror and began unpinning her hair. She was poised in the act of lifting the brush when she realised she could hear voices through the wall.

And one of them was Alonzo's.

"I'm not going back with you, Sheila." Alonzo said firmly, and Sheila rolled off the bed, and stood on tiptoe to stare him straight in the eye. When he didn't flinch, laugh, or otherwise give her any indication that he wasn't being completely truthful and serious, she threw up her hands.

"Come on, Ace. You were born to fly, not end up some dirtwalker lightyears away from the nearest port. What's gotten into you?"

"You don't understand." Alonzo shook his head. "What don't I understand? That you've got a thing for that pretty doctor and want to spend the rest of your life here with a white picket fence, making babies?" Her voice dripped with scorn, pretty much telegraphing what she thought of that kind of life. "That's not the Alonzo Solace I knew."

"The Alonzo Solace you knew is gone. I've changed, Sheila." "Are you telling me you don't dream of being out there, swimming through the stars, feeling the hum of a ships's engine beneath your feet?" Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper, and Alonzo had to school his expression to one of disinterest. But she could see through the mask. Straight through. "Those kind of dreams don't go away. They just don't."

"Maybe," Alonzo admitted. "But I have new dreams now." Sheila sat back down, and massaged one stocking-clad foot thoughtfully, even though it didn't hurt. It just gave her something to do with her hands. Other than wrap them around his throat and try to choke some sense into him.

"Look, I'm leaving in three days, with or without you. But I'd rather be with you. You were the best damn sleep-jumper I knew, a legend in your own time. Don't throw it all away and go native."

Julia was frozen. She didn't have to see the scene she'd just overheard, her imagination was filling in all the blanks quite nicely.

She could see Alonzo's eyes. She could see how his shoulders would stiffen, and his hands spasm as if they wanted to ball into fists. She'd seen it all before.

*...I used to be a pilot. I could fly away whenever I wanted...*

"Don't," she whispered to herself, curling up on the bed. "Don't."

That was a long time ago.
Things had changed.
They had changed.
Hadn't they?
She buried her face in the pillow. "Don't."
But it was too late.

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