The Rise of Earth by Jason Fry Page B

running diagnostics and Carlo was testing the flight controls. Next to Tycho’s station, Yana was quarreling with Vesuvia about how to deal with a stuck sensor mast, while Huff was in his usual spot between Tycho’s and Yana’s stations, forearm cannon jerking irritably.
    Carlo turned around as Tycho stepped off the ladder. He grinned, then stretched languorously.
    â€œThanks for the extra sleep, Tyke,” he said, resting his sneakers on his console. “Really nice of you and Yana.”
    â€œBelay that,” Diocletia said, and then her gaze fell on her younger children. “I decided not to ask Carinawhat trouble you two managed to get into so early in the morning. You’re too old to be stealing cookies out of the pantry.”
    â€œThat’s my department,” Mavry said.
    â€œWere you up early running a piloting sim, Tyke?” Carlo asked. “Figured out how not to fly into Jupiter yet?”
    â€œWhat part of ‘belay that’ was unclear?” Diocletia asked. “Our passenger, Mr. Vass, just left Port Town on a ferry. When he arrives, you two will give him a tour of the ship and get him settled in his cabin. I want you both back here at 0915.”
    â€œAye-aye,” Tycho said, then hesitated. “What cabin is he using? I suppose he could bunk with Mr. de Pere—he’s most junior in the wardroom.”
    â€œA JDF minister sharing a cabin belowdecks?” Diocletia asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think they’d care for that on Ganymede. Mr. Vass will take Carina’s old cabin.”
    Shocked faces turned to Diocletia. Carina’s cabin had been empty since 624 Hektor.
    â€œHave you all gone deaf? Mr. Vass will use my sister’s cabin. I just made it ready myself.”
    It was Huff who spoke first. “Yer givin’ my daughter’s cabin to . . . to a spy ?”
    â€œLet’s please not refer to our passenger as a spy. But yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s been fifteen years since Carina swore she’d never set foot on the Comet again. I don’t think she’s changing her mind.”
    Huff sputtered, his forearm cannon pinwheeling crazily.
    â€œThe solar system’s changing,” Diocletia said. “Time we accept that. If we can’t start with something as obvious as this, what chance do we have of accepting things that are really important? Now, I trust my order is clear?”
    She looked at each of her family members in turn. Mavry put up his hands in acquiescence. Carlo offered his mother a nod. Tycho looked down at his sensor board, then nodded hurriedly when he felt his mother’s eyes lingering on him. Yana shrugged. But Huff just stared at his daughter, his artificial eye blazing white.
    An alert sounded on Tycho’s sensor board.
    â€œInbound ferry requesting docking permission,” Vesuvia said.
    â€œGranted,” Diocletia said, gaze still fixed on Huff. “Direct the pilot to the port airlock and ask him to hold—in case my father decides he would rather return to Port Town.”
    For a moment the quarterdeck was silent except for the chug of the Comet ’s air scrubbers.
    â€œI’m goin’ to me cabin before yeh rent it out to the next spy,” Huff said.
    Then he turned and clomped up the ladderwell to the top deck, his metal feet ringing out like hammers. Tycho watched his grandfather vanish, trailing a stream of invective.
    â€œTycho?” Diocletia asked. “Are you joining your sister belowdecks?”
    â€œWhat? Oh—of course, Captain.”
    Tycho started to rise from his seat, but he had forgotten to unstrap his restraints and fell back into it. He fumbled with the straps, trying to ignore Carlo’s laughter, then followed Yana down the ladder. Crewers and retainers touched their knuckles to their brows, and Tycho and Yana nodded in return.
    The Comet shook faintly as the ferry’s docking ring