Page 79 of Mutant Mine

“THERE IS AN INCOMING HOLO-CALL ON THE FLIGHT DECK.”

“Who would be calling us?” Rory asks, sitting up herself and rubbing her eyes. A glance at the small display screen beside the bed tells me that it is almost three in the morning.

“My brothers are arriving soon,” I remind her. “I did tell you this.”

“Oh, right,” she says. Her tone is sheepish. “Everything got very… distracting, after that.”

Under the flashing red light, with the computer still scolding us to get up, we find a moment to smile softly at each other.

We dress quickly, and make our way through to the flightdeck. And then we see it, through the window: where before there has only ever been a sea of endless night, now there is a starship.

It is a fine ship. Large, industrial looking — not the smaller government ship I saw my brothers escape in, all those years ago. I will have to ask them the story of how they got it.

There is so much I need to ask them.

For now, I step onto the faint outline of the holo-sensors, on the floor in front of the instrument panel. These sensors will read and reconstruct my image on the deck of my brothers’ ship. I am aware of Rory retreating, backing away until she collides with the side wall.

“Computer, disable the alert and answer the call.”

And then, at long, long last, I see him again.

My first brother. My old friend. Weaver.

His holo-image stands there before us, as vivid as if he were in the room.

“Roth,” he says solemnly, looking at me across the years between us — taking in the changes in me, and the things that have not changed at all.

Then his face splits into a grin.

“Didn’t I promise you that we’d be back for you, brother?” he laughs. His joy is infectious, but I keep my own face straight.

“You took your time,” I say wryly.

He nods, serious again. “We did. And I’m sorry for that. So much has happened — but I’ll explain all that once you’re with us. Will you give us permission to land a shuttle at the Hades’ docking port?”

“Of course. You do not need to ask.”

“Yes, we do,” Weaver smiles.

“A figure of speech,” I say, even as my fingers flick the controls required to grant them access.

“We’ll see you very soon, Roth.”

“Wait,” I interject, before he can end the call. “I will need to bring some… guests with me. If you have room for them.”

Weaver gives me a long, curious look.

“Anyone you care for and trust is very welcome,” he says. His tone is light, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

I nod my thanks.

We end the call.

They are on their way. Soon.

* * *

RORY AND Iready ourselves quickly for our departure. There is no time to stand around being sentimental — eating all the good food in the kitchen now that we know we do not need to ration it, or making love for one last time in this unlikely place where we found each other.

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