arced up and caught sunlight, glittering with a spray of rocks
where the tightly knit group of Worthies had built habitation
modules, storage depots, greenhouse domes. All those artificial
structures should have formed the backbone of a carefully
engineered society. A magnificent colony. Standing alone, Rex
considered the grand aspirations of visionary Ardet Hollings,
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who had founded the Worthies.
Now there were three empty seats at the dinner table. All
families had suffered similar losses in the recent space battle.
As the emotional currents moved around him, Rex imagined
himself as a rock in a fast-flowing stream, as in the library images
he liked to view. Images of natural beauty were the only parts of
Earth that Ardet had allowed them to see, claiming that
everything else was too corrupt. He found the lovely landscape
scenes very soothing, the rushing waters, the crashing ocean
waves, the silvery waterfalls. Rex had never visited Earth, and
he never would, especially not now.
Though he could not personally experience extreme moods,
he still recognized the agitation from his mother and his two
sisters-in-law. It was like learning a foreign language. Even little
Max was affected by the tension; the boy clung fussily to his
Uncle Rex, who was two years younger than his father. Rex
picked up his unsettled nephew, whispering soft words that
soothed him. Max stopped crying, giggled once, then played with
his uncle’s hair. They both looked out the window. “See the
planet? Isn’t it pretty?” As a first-born, Max would never be
subjected to the implant, or the operation. If Rex hadn’t been so
calm, he might have envied the little boy.
Mother emerged from the kitchen unit, forcing a bright smile.
She looked wrung-out and pale, overworked, overwhelmed, but
not willing to surrender any ground to Fate. She would keep
doing what she must, regardless of the circumstances. As the
wife of Ardet Hollings, she had always been an excellent
example for other Worthy women to emulate, filling her role,
doing her tasks, never overstepping the boundaries. Rex thought
she was perfect. Even knowing the terrible things that had
happened to the colony, and what they could expect from the
Earth military forces, her job was to manage their home and keep
the family unit intact. Mother would die before she gave up any
of those tasks, no matter what outside threat might be coming
their way.
“Today is our special day, so we have a feast. Twenty-one
years ago today Ardet led us away from Earth and brought us
here to form our model society.” She said the phrases she had
memorized. Her husband had written the original Independence
Day speech, and the words had become canon. “We came here
to find peace, despite the hardships we knew we would have to
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face and without interference from outsiders.”
Rex intoned the benediction along with his two sisters-in-
law, “Peace despite hardship.” He handed the now-happy toddler
back to Ann, tapping Max on the nose and making him giggle
one last time before the meal.
Mother brought out platters of fresh vegetables grown in the
greenhouse domes. At the end of his shift that day, Rex had
brought home the best from the harvest, far more than they really
needed to eat. There were ears of bright yellow corn, bowls of
green beans, leafy salads dressed with spicy herbed sauces.
Tofumeat added extra protein.
With all greenhouse systems perfectly functional, at last, the
productivity in the domes was enough to feed a population
beyond even Ardet’s greatest dreams—and now that so many
colonists had died, there was extra food for the table. Silver
linings. Rex smiled at the thought. He served himself sliced
tomatoes so red they made the eyes ache.
“There isn’t much reason to celebrate,” grumbled Ann as she
took her seat next to one of the empty spots. When Max fussed,
she set the toddler on her knee and absently shushed him. Rex
Mother would not let anything derail her purpose. “It is still
our Independence Day. We have always celebrated it, and we’ll
do so again this year. Our men would want it that way.”
“Who knows what will happen next year?” Rex said,
meaning to be optimistic. He let events flow toward him and
accepted whatever came. He, like so many others of his
generation, was kept on an even keel, cooperative, causing no
trouble. Ardet had wanted it that way.
Instead, his comment stung the others there. Rex could see
expressions fall and felt their turbulent anxiety: grief for lost
husbands, fear of the inevitable end of their way of life, anger at
the enemy that had robbed the Worthies of their future. No matter
how brave their deaths had been while standing against the
invaders, the men were still dead.
“I’m … sorry for what I said. It was insensitive.”
“That’s all right, Rex. You can’t help it,” Mother said.
Dark-eyed Jen, the widow of his brother Ian, took a seat
across from Rex, moving as if in a daze. She had full lips, a lush
figure, and a once-sparkling personality that had made her an
extremely desirable mate. Ian had been the envy of many
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Worthies when she’d accepted his proposal of marriage, and
Ardet himself had blessed the union. Rex had been very pleased
for both of them, hoping they would have many children … but
there hadn’t been time. He could sense Jen’s sorrow at that now,
the suffocating weight of lost opportunities.
It all flowed past him. He was a rock in a stream. That was
as much as the implant, and his altered body, allowed him to be.
Since Rex was the only “man” there, Mother asked him to
say a brief prayer for Lee and Ian, as well as their father and all
of the fallen heroes. Rex mouthed the memorized words in his
thin, piping voice. Then they all joined in an uninspired but
adequate recitation of Ardet’s traditional Independence Day
benediction. When he finished speaking, everyone murmured,
“As Ardet said.”
Giving him a shy smile, Jen served Rex one of the ears of
corn, took a smaller one for herself, then passed the plate down
to where Ann was struggling with Max while scooping up some
beans. Ann had a round face and curly brown hair. When her
husband was still alive, she had kept herself beautiful for him,
but in the months since Lee had fallen, she’d had little
opportunity to do so, especially with caring for Max.
Rex knew that Ann struggled to be strong, to follow Mother’s
example; Worthy women were groomed to be exceptionally
competent in their well-defined areas of responsibility, and to
rely on the men to
fulfill their own duties. But not even Ardet,
with his grand dreams and detailed societal models, had
envisioned the possibility of an entire stratum vanishing
practically overnight.
Ann asked, “How soon do you suppose the DPs will be
here?” She spoke as if it were casual mealtime conversation,
though Rex could hear the tension, like brittle glass in her voice.
“I’ll have no such talk at the table.” Mother passed the salad
bowl around again and urged them to eat. “This isn’t the time for
it.” “I’m afraid,” Jen said in a small voice, looking directly at
Rex. He glanced away, knowing what she wanted from him but
unable to give it. He felt so sorry for her.
The Democratic Progressives had dispatched a retaliatory
force to crush them, and everyone knew it was only a matter of
time. The Worthies had already sacrificed all their fighting men
against the first small exploratory force that had come to Saturn.
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Ardet, Lee, Ian, and the other men in the Worthy settlement had
defeated the enemy that day, but at incredible cost to themselves.
The remaining colonists would have no chance when Earth’s
reinforcements arrived at Saturn. For months now, Rex had felt
the uneasy panic wafting among the colony survivors like the
wind from a laboring air recycler.
But he remained calm. All newts remained calm. Ardet had
thought it for the best.
After the meal, his belly full, Rex helped out in the kitchen
unit, cleaning dishes, recycling scraps. Though Worthy men did
not do such work, newts were allowed to perform some duties
traditionally reserved for women. Besides, Rex had designed or
refined some of the household recycling systems himself, and he
knew how to keep them functioning at peak efficiency.
Jen offered to help him while Ann and Mother played with
Max in the main living area. One of Ardet’s old recorded
speeches played on the screen; crowds of exuberant new
colonists cheered, giddy with their recent separation from Earth
and assured of a bright future if only they followed the rigid
Worthy plan.
Jen stood uncomfortably close to Rex in the cramped kitchen
unit. He used a squeegee to scrape food into a compost-recycler
and stored the serving plates in the sanitizer, which used water
reclaimed from the abundant ice in Saturn’s rings. For a while,
she made light conversation, though he could hear a deep and
desperate huskiness to her voice, a longing and a need. After a
long pause, Jen said in a very low whisper, “Rex, I ache every
time I see you. Do you know how much you remind me of Ian?
You look so much like him.”
“I am his brother. We’ve always looked a lot alike.”
She slipped her arms around his waist. “Face me.”
He felt awkward, interrupted in his work, but he dutifully
turned. He looked at Jen’s oval face, her delicate chin. Both of
his brothers’ wives were beautiful women, yet Rex felt no desire
for his sisters-in-law. Still, he loved them deeply. Jen must have
seen it on his face. He stroked her hair, trying to calm her, as he
had done with Max.
Growing bolder, she pressed her soft breasts against his
chest, then tilted her face. She kissed him, at first tentatively, then
ferociously. Her lips were moist and pleasant, warm, wanting
more than he was capable of giving. “I miss him so much, Rex.
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I’m so lonely.”
“We’re all lonely.” He gently extricated himself, patted her
on the shoulder, as a brother would, and reminded her of what
she already knew. “I’m not entirely like Ian. I’m missing some
of my parts.”
Though he had not intended to upset her in any way, he
experienced her reaction like whitecaps crashing against a sea
cliff. Another library image from Earth … Rebuffed, Jen backed
to the door of the kitchen unit. He could not experience the same
reactions, with all the highs and lows of passion clipped from
him, but he very much wanted to understand. “I’m sorry,” he said
automatically, hoping it would defuse the tension simmering in
her. “Don’t be angry.”
Dark hair swirled around her as she tossed her head and
looked at him with a flicker of … disgust? “How can you keep
us safe from the DPs? They’re coming! You know what they’re
like. They’ll destroy us all.”
Rex blinked at her, struggling to quell the situation. Yes, he
had heard Ardet’s speeches on the evils of Earth, the manic greed
and violence of the Democratic Progressives. Rex, born here in
the new colony, had never experienced Earth except through his
father’s harsh descriptions, but he believed the stories of a
lawless society in which no member knew his or her place. After
great struggle and persecution, the Worthies had broken away
from that, coming far enough out here into unclaimed territory
that they could achieve their potential, following Ardet’s social
map. Rex was part of that; they all were.
“We all have our tasks, Jen. I’m a newt. You know that being
a fighter—or a lover—is not one of my duties.” He offered a
comforting smile. “I can do many things, Jen, just not what
you’re looking for right now.” Rex squared his shoulders, as he
had seen his brothers do. “But if we don’t stay the course in our
darkest hour, then we dishonor Ardet. He gave us our
instructions. If we cast them aside now, then we are no better
than the people from Earth.”
It was an intellectual argument, the kind Rex was best at, and
he could see that it did not convince Jen’s heart. After she left
him in a swirl of anger and fear, he went back to finish the
kitchen chores by himself.
*
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The handful of intact Worthy men insisted they would go
down fighting for their principles, their way of life. Rex was
physically, and chemically, prevented from feeling the same
passionate resolve, but he could admire their determination, their
bravery, their refusal to give up. He was sure Ardet Hollings
would have been proud.
Shortly after their independence day, Rex and a dozen newts
were removed from their daily assignments and sent out into the
space rubble field with Commander Joseph Heron. Heron was
old, scarred, and impatient, one of only twenty-three male
survivors of the initial battle against the Democratic
Progressives. Listening to him rail against Fate, Rex wondered if
Heron had spent the last several months wishing that he too had
died in the conflict. But if he had, who would defend the
Worthies against the decadent and despicable DPs?
From the time he was child, Rex had been trained how to suit
up and how to perform outside functions. He was perfectly
&n
bsp; capable of performing tasks out in hard vacuum, as were his
fellow newts. They were well-educated, even-tempered workers
who remained unruffled in a crisis. They would complete their
tasks as required, no matter how anxious and uptight
Commander Heron and his desperate soldiers might be.
Scouts had already combed the space battlefield for any
wreckage they could salvage, but Heron insisted on trying again
and again. The vagaries of gravity in the rings churned up new
discoveries, like repressed emotions coming to the surface. Rex
was sure nothing remained to be found, but the commander had
nothing to cling to but dogged optimism. Rex was surprised, and
pleased, when the searches paid off: Far from where anyone
expected gravity and momentum to have carried it, they
discovered a nearly intact DC ship.
Leaving Heron in charge was yet another example of Ardet’s
great wisdom: No newt would have bothered to keep searching.
“This is our greatest break yet, men,” the commander said
over the suit intercom as their shuttle approached. Heron allowed
only a small touch of irony when he said “men.” His voice held
an edge, as if anger could inspire the newts to greater dedication,
but the implants continued to keep them controlled, calm. It was
the most reasonable way to get a tough job done. After the
Worthies’ early years of near-starvation, Ardet had based much
of his plan on that basic idea …
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Heron named the wreck Flying Dutchman after an old Earth
ghost story. The Dutchman’s hull had been breached in several
places, venting its atmosphere and killing the small crew. When
their shuttle circled the derelict, Rex studied the configuration,
making mental notes about what needed to be repaired. Decades
ago, when leaving their tainted planet behind, Ardet’s followers
had purchased brute-force commercial vessels to haul people and
equipment on a one-way trip to Saturn. This DC exploratory ship
was faster, its lines sleeker, its potential greater than anything the
colonists had used.
When the shuttle docked against the Dutchman’s cold hull,
Heron addressed his men and the newts. “Inside this wreck, there
may be energy weapons, explosive projectiles, something we can