Kingdom of Cages(30)

“Ten years, Bele,” repeated Menasha, real heat rising in her voice. “Do you have any idea what it’s like out there?”

“No, I don’t,” snapped back Beleraja. “Because I’ve been stuck in this tin can for the past five years instead of out with my family. I’ve been here trying to keep things going between the Authority, all the Called, and Pandora.” She swept her hand back toward the corridor. “This place is jammed to the gills. We’ve got ships out turning away everybody we can, but people are still sneaking in. Director Shontio is tearing his hair out. I’ve been trying to keep him cool, but he’s under pressure. There’s a really good chance your refugees are going to be stuck in their ships, especially if they can’t pay the air tax.”

“You should tell the Pandorans,” replied Mena calmly, “they’ll have to take more people down to the surface.”

Beleraja shook her head. “Not likely.” She remembered far too clearly the complete indifference on their faces when she’d sat at the end of their conference table and talked about the plight of the Called. Indifference that had turned to sheer horror when she had threatened them with colonists landing on the pristine world.

“Then they’re going to have a problem, aren’t they?” Menasha cocked her head toward Beleraja, and Beleraja knew the Council of Cities did not have to work very hard to convince Menasha to take this assignment. “And maybe this will just be the first problem.”

Beleraja turned away, her chest heaving and her fists clenching and unclenching. Was the council out of their minds? They knew, they knew that this was the work of years. What under the wide black sky were they thinking?

They were thinking they had not seen enough results from Pandora. They were thinking all the reports and assurances might be bogus. They were thinking of the settlements on another five worlds that had failed in the last city-measured year. They were thinking that if there weren’t enough worlds to sustain all the Authority shippers, the shippers would move back to the cities, which might not be able to take care of them, because those cities depended on the goods the shippers brought in.

Beleraja took a deep breath and turned back around.

“Mena, take them to Atlantis.”

An expression of sincere regret crossed Menasha’s face. “I can’t.” Beleraja blew out another sigh, a long, slow, disappointed one this time. “You mean you won’t.” Because you’ve been paid to help pressure Pandora. Mena, how badly did you need the goods?

“I can’t,” said Menasha sharply, as if she’d guessed Beleraja’s thoughts. “Atlantis won’t take them. They’ve already said so.”

It took a moment for her words to penetrate to Beleraja’s understanding. “Why not?” she asked, her forehead furrowing. “Atlantis needs new blood. The cities are losing people just like the planets are.”

“And it’s making them extremely reluctant to allow in anybody who might be a new vector for infection.” Menasha folded her arms. “They are all remembering how quickly that plague spread across Old Earth.”

“All right, all right.” Beleraja waved her hand weakly. “I’ll try to smooth it over with Director Shontio. Maybe we can find room for them.” She turned away, heading for the hatch to the stairway.

“Bele,” said Menasha hesitantly. “The council did not put you here to make things easy for the Pandorans. You’re flying right past the mission goal here.”

Beleraja did not look back. “No, I’m not.”

Leaving Menasha to take that however she chose, Beleraja cranked open the nearest stairway hatch and stepped through.

As ever, the stairway was crowded. The stair shafts had always been the equivalent of public parks for Athena Sation, which had never been designed for full-time residents. The air was heavy with the smells of disinfectant and warm humanity. Men and women stood around talking, children ran up and down the stairway between the adults, or sat in clusters playing games with balls or cards. Adolescents slouched against the rails looking tough and disinterested, hoping someone would notice how tough and disinterested they were. The voices blended into a single rush of sound.

All long-term inhabitants of artificial environments tried to make their enclosures more like an open world. Since Athena lacked space for more than the occasional potted plant, parks and groves were out of the question. So its inhabitants had taken to keeping small animals: dogs, birds, ferrets.

Some of the people recognized Beleraja as she passed. They saluted and hailed politely as they stepped aside for her, pulling their children and pets out of the way. As always, however, not all of the gestures were polite greetings. That was something else she’d gotten used to during her time here.