Theia followed her down and stood beside her on the damp grass. They wrapped their arms around each other and walked back to the house, hanging on tight.
Chapter IX
It didn't have to be like this, Arron.” On the other side of the video screen, Marcus Avenall shook his head. “There are some plum jobs up and down the Human Chain. You could have any one of them.”
Arron sighed. “Obviously, I don't want any one of them.”
“Obviously,” said Marcus drily. He leaned toward the screen. “Listen, Arron, we can still work this out. Zombie the knot and come back here. We'll stick you behind a comm station for a couple of years and then get you back out in the dirt.” He leaned toward the screen. “You've got a lot of work left in you. This is not the time for a kamikaze run.”
He meant it. Marcus was bending over backwards to get Arron out of his handmade mess, and Arron wanted to thank him for it.
“I'm not going to untie my knot.” It had actually been doing some good. The debates had grown hard, furious, and crowded. A number of contractors had pulled out of the project. When he left… Well, at least he could keep some connection to this Earth through the work on web. “If that's the condition, then I'm not coming back in, Marcus.”
Marcus shook his head. “All right, Arron. I can't stop you, and if you're going to be like this, I can't help you.” He paused. “You realize that if you're stripped off the roll, I won't even be able to get you home from there?”
“Yeah, I know,” said Arron softly. “I'll find my own way out. It won't be the first time.”
“No, I guess not.” Marcus studied his keypad. “I don't know whether to wish you luck or sense, Hagopian,” he said without looking up. “Call if you change your mind. Maybe we can still figure something out.” He cut the connection and left Arron sitting there alone.
He stood up. “Station. Power off.”
The station's low hum shut off, and Arron stood alone with the sound of the ventilators.
Shut them down, too? No. He picked up his portable and slung it over his shoulder. Why risk any extra contaminants getting out before Bioverse can get to it?
He crossed the empty room. His was the only station remaining. Cabal had stripped the others out, having, he said, found somebody who'd buy them for parts salvage.
Arron reached the front door and turned around. It seemed like an incredible waste to leave all the furniture and hardware, but, what were any of them going to do with it? Cabal had taken all he needed. Who else would use the place? The corpers certainly didn't need it, and the Dedelphi wouldn't touch it because of the Human contamination.
He pressed his fingertips against the light panel. Darkness filled the room. The sealed doors opened and closed behind him, locking automatically. If it came to it, the corpers would have no problem slicing their way in.
Arron climbed the stairs out into the watery daylight and walked to the pier where he'd left his boat. The ferries had stopped running. He'd had to bring himself out. The harbor managers had been happy to rent him one of their motorized boats, as he'd known they would. Those two were squeezers of an old, proud school. He paid their outrageous price without grumbling.
He stepped into the rocking boat and dropped his backpack into the bottom. He tossed the switches on the engine. Gripping the tiller firmly, the way Lareet had taught him, he pointed the nose for shore.
For the first time since he'd come to the Hundred Isles, the harbor was quiet. Boats rocked at anchor, but none of them plowed through the water. All the traffic was on the shore. Lines of mothers, sisters, and daughters filled the streets, bridges, and rooftops. They carried their bundles under their arms and on their heads while the smallest daughters clung to their backs and shoulders. Open-sided trucks stuffed with passengers and baggage crept between the pedestrians. All of them headed the same way, to the spaceport to wait for their relocation.
Arron had seen the bulletins that asked the families to stay home until they were specifically called. He could have told Lynn that was never going to work. The Getesaph were used to shortage living. If something was going to be distributed, whether it was a service or hard goods, you had better get there early and stake your place. If you waited for someone to tell you to turn up, whatever-it-was might be gone before you got there. If they got to the distribution point and found out nothing was happening yet, they'd calmly sit and wait until something did happen. It was amazing.
Arron steered the boat toward the dock. Two figures came out of the nearest shack. He assumed they were the harbor managers, who had no confidence in his ability to securely tie off a boat, but when he looked again, he saw they were Lareet and Umat.