The sun, that sharp orb of light, never sets this time of year. I miss the darkness, the sacred sprinkles of light in the sky, stars in the vast openness of space. With the ocean fully explored, mapped, and harvested for energy, space is the last frontier, but I’d rather look at it than be stranded in it.
Unlike ninety percent of this planet, I still have a fear of space. My sibling spends every vacation on the Venus colony. They say Venus seeps with pastel clouds and breathtaking sunsets. They say it’s the only way they can get a proper tan. But I’ve never been off this planet.
The cities are getting crowded, and there are three times as many as there were a hundred years ago in 2157, so most young people are moving off-world to the hundreds of space stations in the solar system and the colonies on Venus, Mars and the Moon. I’m happy to trade with them, but that doesn’t mean I have to go up there myself.
I don’t see the benefit of living on the Moon. At least on Venus and Mars there’s open sky. Besides, the Moon is running out of helium-3 for fusion engines, so we won’t have much to trade with soon. The Jupiter station will be able to hike up the price after that. And why live on any space station or colony? You need body mods just to survive.
On Earth, we have foods and media from thousands of cultures. We have a kaleidoscopic myriad of species, flourishing on preserves and in our data zoos. We aren’t precariously dependent on life support systems. We won’t die from a minor malfunction.
My sibling Delia and I are sitting in a coffee shop in the middle of Nuuk, Greenland, near our farms and our homes. It’s a quiet, sunny day. Even though it’s summer, there’s a bit of snow on the ground. It’s foggy and boggy so we can’t see very far. The city is bustling with its two million people. Aerial cars are flying through the sky and honking their horns. The sky port a few miles away is launching a shuttle to the Moon. Two hundred years ago, this was a tiny town, especially for a national capitol. There’s never been much air pollution since the city only really expanded after the world had already shifted to carbon-free energy.
“Why don’t you come with me next time?” Delia asks, their auburn locks floating around their head and their long, delicate fingers gently pursed around their coffee cup.
“You know why. I don’t want to die up there.” My eyes widen as I say this.
“But no one has died on a space station in over a hundred years. They have redundancies for everything and maintenance ships everywhere. The AI predicts any possible problems and prevents or intercepts them.” Delia was sick a lot as a kid. They were saved by medications and hospital stays, so they believe modern marvels will take care of us. It’s no wonder they take risks. They want to seize life by the balls every chance tjey get, because they know how precarious it is.
“Still, no.”
“But there’s so much to see off world. You’re depriving yourself of a worldlier lifestyle. There’s such beautiful sunsets and sunrises on the other planets. The Earth itself looks exquisite from the Moon. Why don’t you want to see that?”
”Because I’m afraid to die.”
”You shouldn’t let fear stop you all the time. I’m sick of hearing you cower in the face of basic, daily life that everyone else seems to have no trouble living.” When our parents died in an aerial car crash, Delia kept driving and didn’t seem to get phased by any of it. I, on the other hand, stopped driving for almost a year afterwards, until I felt okay enough to pick it up again. I only took trains, nothing that moves freely through the air.
”I don’t care, I’m not going up there. That’s what I have you for!” Just the thought of leaving Earth makes me shake and shiver and develop hives all over my body. I don’t know where this fear came from, but it’s deeply engrained.
“Suit yourself.”
*
“We need to invest in solar and wind energy. We’ve been dependent on lunar helium for too long. It will only get more expensive when the Moon runs out. Our addiction to fusion is keeping us from evolving and doing what we need to in order to survive on this planet.”
The actress Viola Frank is speaking to a conglomeration of thousands of people in front of the national monument, and I’m watching it on television in a gastropub at the center of town.
“Now more than ever we need our tax dollars to go back into Earth.”
Everyone cheers raucously.
“When the permafrost melted, we did nothing. When we had to build air-conditioned zoos so that we could preserve what was left of the arctic animals, we didn’t stop using oil. When we ran out of oil, where did we turn? To another limited resource. We’re addicted to untenable energy production. We need this to stop.”
At this point, people are jumping up and down, screeching in support.
“That’s why I’m calling on congress to pass this bill which would secure a percentage of our tax dollars to be invested in renewable energy for the state grid. It will make us less dependent on off-planet companies. No longer can we allow deep pockets and relentless professional lobbyists to control our economy.”
The cheering rises again.
“Senators, congresspeople, if you care for your constituencies, you will pass this bill and stop the off-planet minority in congress from siphoning national funds off-planet. You will pass this bill and save the planet from human error.”
She waves at the crowd as she walks off the stage.
“And next up, molten rock artists The Streets will perform a short half hour set,” says the master of ceremonies. The Streets run on stage to a cackling caucus of teenagers in the front of the mass of people.
“I think it’s ridiculous, we don’t need more state-owned anything. The market will correct for the loss of lunar helium and Earth companies will start renewable farms of their own volition,” says some person in the booth next to mine.
“The market will never support that in time. Jupiter will drain us dry by the time Earth companies even stake out the land they need,” says their friend with super-short blonde hair that borders on silver, and false nails that curl several inches off their fingers. “I’m not arguing that we need some things to be state-owned. It evens out the playing field so that the poor have a fighting chance of rising to the top in the face of generational wealth. That’s why we have the universal services treaty and the universal taxation treaty. But there’s a limit, the market is better at optimizing the most efficient use of resources.”
“That’s ludicrous. The state is the only reason no one goes hungry or ends up without medical care. We’ve just never seen a time when those things were a question. But if you read your history books it’s obvious that all the market ever did was give advantage to the privileged.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“That’s what people say when they don’t have a better argument.”
“That’s what people say when they don’t want to fight anymore. It’s a notion of respect.”
“Fine.”
As the people finish their conversation they get up onto their steep heels and walk out of the pub.
*
We need to buy more land for our vertical farm. I’m pregnant with twins and Delia’s trips to Venus are getting more expensive. Besides, I’m still paying off my loans for the IVF I needed. And our helium-3 business won’t last much longer, since the Moon is running out of the stuff.
“Did you find anything today?” I ask Delia, who slouches into the room and sighs impatiently.
“No, did you?”
“No… I think we should widen our search.”
“But if we get too far from here we’ll have trouble running them both.” Delia’s eyes furrow at the thought.
“We’re going to have to hire people anyway. They need to be trustworthy regardless.”
“I suppose.”
“Besides, you’re on Venus half the time anyway,” I say as I roll my eyes.
“But I always know you’re back here guiding the work.”
“I still will be. Just not each spot every day.”
“Okay, okay. We’ll look farther tomorrow.”
”Well, what’s been going on with the Moon business lately? Aren’t you supposed to visit the base next week?” I’m always worried for Delia when they go to space. There’s a knot in my stomach the whole time she’s away. Which is most of the time.
”Yes, I will, on my way to the Venus space station.”
”Good, we need someone keeping an eye on that stuff. Find out if you can raise the prices for wholesale.”
”I should be able to — since the Moon is running out and Jupiter is so far away, it’ll be easy to.” Delia perked up at this thought.
”Great.”
Delia is tired and so am I. We’ve been hawking for new land for two weeks now, and the lack of success can be daunting. Delia doesn’t have the same knack for hard work that I do. Work has always been easier for them, and they spend most of their time vacationing.
*
Delia’s been back on Venus for a couple weeks now, running the helium business from off-planet. I’m lucky I have them, because I could never go to the Moon. It’s one of my worst nightmares, only paling in comparison to losing my family. But that’s what worries me so much about them being gone – that I could lose them so easily and never see them again.
I’m here pregnant and alone and I need to hire some people to help with the farm before I get too big. But I don’t feel like I have the energy to do it.
“So what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done on the job?” I ask the candidate in front of me, Jelise.
“Well, when I was working at McDonald’s I used to sneak veggie burgers out for my family. We were pretty tight on cash and my mom couldn’t work because of her back, so it was up to me to feed my brothers and sisters.” Delia’s eyes wallow in sadness, as she looks down to the ground at the thought of her limited childhood.
“That’s not too bad… What’s the best thing you’ve done on the job?”
“Well, when I was working for Harvest Systems I found a way to increase their yield by fifteen percent. It had to do with the nutrient balance they were feeding their hydroponic eggplants and tomatoes. They had found a balance that suited them both, but they really needed to keep it to two separate systems so each type of plant could get what it needed.”
“That’s impressive. And did they think the investment in additional irrigation tech would be worth it? Did they go through with it?”
“No, they didn’t. It was only ever theoretical. That’s a tendency in my experience. My bosses don’t always listen to my good ideas.”
“It won’t be like that around here, I assure you. I might not take every recommendation you come up with, but I’ll seriously consider everything you suggest.”
“So, do I have the job?”
“I’m not sure yet. I still have to call your references. But your qualifications look excellent and you’re definitely first in the running so far.”
“They’ll say good things, don’t worry. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“You’ll hear from me soon. Thanks for coming by.”
*
I call Delia, expecting to get their mailbox, instead I get them live.
“Hi, just checking in on how the helium sales are going out there. And I have some news about the farm.” I say this with excitement.
“Great, actually. The short supply has been raising prices so we’ve done pretty well. But it will only last a few more months in our mine.”
“That’s mixed news, I guess. By the way, I think I found the farmland we’re looking for.”
“Great!” Delia’s eyes widen in glee. She wants the search to be over.
“Yeah, it’s only six miles away, which is a five minute aerial drive. It’s just enough space for our expansion and not too expensive either.”
“I’ll come look at it when I get back. I should be home in three days.”
“Excellent. I also found someone to work on the farm when I get too pregnant. But we’ll need more hands to help with the new farm too.”
“Sure. What’s their name?”
“Her name is Jelise.”
“Well, I trust your judgment. I look forward to meeting her.”
“Anyway, I have to go cook dinner. See you in a few days! Miss you sis!”
“Miss you too! Bye-bye.”
*
The news came to me early in the morning three days after we had spoken. Delia was dead. They got into an accident in their aerial car on their way to the house from the sky port. I couldn’t believe it at first. I kept waking in the middle of the night, expecting them to be in their room right beside mine. I kept picking up the phone to call them in the afternoons. I kept expecting them to handle the helium-3 business and call me with news about it. But they would never do those things again. At first I didn’t cry, I was in shock. But about a week after it happened, I balled my eyes out and wouldn’t stop crying for four days. I would wake up crying and go to sleep crying and eat my lunch crying. I could barely hold it together as I signed the papers on the new farm and interviewed other workers for it.
It was about a month after I got the news and things needed my attention on the Moon. I didn’t have anyone I could trust to send up there, so I would have to bite the bullet and go up there myself. I’ve never been off-world, so this notion was terrifying to me. Especially after what happened to Delia, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if something happened to me up there. We didn’t have any heirs, so the farm would go to one of our cousins. And he didn’t know how to manage a farm or a helium-3 business. He was a scholar and a professor at a college in America. I guess, if I were dead, I wouldn’t care anymore because I wouldn’t be around to care about anything. Still, the thought of it stressed me out. And what if I died but my babies survived? Who would take care of them? That same cousin wasn’t very paternal either.
But it had to be done. So I hired some more hands at the farms and set them up to begin working and manage things while I was away. I was the only one left to manage the personnel issues on the Moon, with the dwindling helium supply, and to approve excess shipments to one of our main clients. That approval could happen from Earth. But I needed to meet these employees so I could decide who we needed to let go and who would stay on until the helium ran out.
So, I packed my bags, including a personal oxygen mask just in case, and headed for the Moon. I was nervous stepping into the inter-planetary transportation portal: the hub of all off-world travel. I slowly walked up the steps, I drudged my way to the airfield gate where my shuttle was taking off. I meekly showed my ticket to the flight attendant. I meandered through the air bridge to my shuttle. I found my seat and carefully placed my baggage beneath the seat in front of me. We waited for boarding and preparation for nearly an hour before we took flight. As we took off, I tightly gripped the handles of my seat in an effort to ground myself and control my anxiety. I had taken a Xanax before I got to the sky port, but it either wore off or wasn’t enough at this point. I didn’t want to drink in case I needed to handle an emergency. I snapped my eyes shut until we left Earth’s atmosphere. Then, weightless, I couldn’t help but open my eyes and look outside.
The Earth was so exquisitely gorgeous from this vantage point. I definitely got that god’s eye view feeling that people say comes with the territory. I could see all at once how insignificant my little life was, and yet how magnificent it is that there’s life at all. I couldn’t help but reflect on the world without borders, and how we should all work together in harmony to keep it pristine. The great Pacific Ocean was but a few inches wide as we sped away from the Earth towards the moon. For a few moments, I forgot all my worries about space travel and thought only of Earth and its beauty. Then, I couldn’t see the Earth anymore and it was just black nothingness and glimmers of stars in the extended distance. It felt so lonely and cold out there.
As we approached the Moon, that gray and muddled pile of dirt, it somehow felt even colder and lonelier than open space. Even though I was in a heated shuttle full of people, I couldn’t shake the feeling. We landed smoothly and without incident and disembarked from our shuttle into the Moon base. When I got inside, there were signs for every corner of the base. It was easy to find my way around and I managed to get to Delia’s office without incident. My office now. As I sat down in their seat, I had to weep again. The whole reason I was up here was because they were gone. It tore me up inside.
*
I’m sitting in my quarters the next day. It’s a gray and silver room with gray bedding and gray upholstery. There’s nothing beautiful about it. Everything is smooth, rounded corners and round knobs. I don’t know why they don’t put more effort or money into making these quarters feel like Earth, or like something more warming and comforting. The Moon is cold enough as it is. So I go to the replicator to get myself hot cocoa and it spits out sludge. I’m depressed enough as it is. Besides being on the Moon, I’ve been very sad since Delia died. And I’m not responding well to the pregnancy, I’m constantly sick.
I told Jelise to call me if she had any questions or problems, especially if it was an emergency. I wasn’t surprised to hear from her one day after I got to the Moon.
“Adeline, I need to tell you something.” Jelise is fidgeting, looking away from me and talking low.
“Okay, what is it?” I try to hide the annoyance in my voice.
“The irrigation system for the lettuce burst and it’s gonna take a lot of new parts, new hoses, new seals, and a specialist to come in and fix it. I can’t jerry-rig anything with what we’ve got going on now. I tried. I turned off the irrigation and the lettuce are wilting.” I couldn’t believe this was happening with so much already going on.
“Well, call the specialist and get an estimate. Have them start working immediately.”
“I did, they said they can’t be here for three days. We’ll lose all the lettuce by then.”
“Harvest them now and salvage what you can. I can’t come back yet.”
“Could I have some of the workers from your other farm come over to help? It’s a lot of work for just me and Lamar.”
“Fine. I’ll call them when we get off with you. They should be there this afternoon.”
“Thank you! I’m sorry to bother you.” Jelise looks down in shyness.
“I’m glad you called. I’d rather know. Especially since you’re having trouble handling it on your own.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry this happened. I should have been able to handle this on my own.”
“We’ll sell them as ‘baby lettuce’.” When I hired Jelise I was under the impression that she was fully confident and competent. I was surprised that she wasn’t up to the task. She also had the phone numbers for the workers at my other farm. She didn’t need to involve me at all. I had enough on my plate on the Moon. I really didn’t need this right now. But it’s never a good time to lose half your crop.
Jelise laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”
Just after our call, I called Jim, Kerry and Melinda at the second farm — people who I had hired before I left for the moon. They all said they would get over to the main farm as soon as possible. Everything is automated at both farms, and the graduated harvesting could continue later at the second farm.
*
The next day, I’m sitting in my office. It’s also gray. The desk is the only thing with angled corners and it just feels like a blob of colorless dissatisfaction. The chair is comfy though. It has good lumbar support.
I have a meeting set up with the head of human resources for the helium-3 mine, Joaquin.
I ask him to divide the workers into two groups – those with families and those without. I would start by firing the ones without families. But that still isn’t enough, considering the business is about to be finished and I need to salvage as much profit as possible. So I ask for his opinion.
“If you fire any more miners, you won’t be able to get enough helium out of the ground in a quick enough time to fulfill orders,” he said. He seems frustrated with me, by the pace of his breathing and the red look on his face. He’s tapping his pen against his clipboard.
“That’s okay — it’ll merely drive up the price. Jupiter’s moons are still more expensive because they’re so far away.”
“But you’ve already lost a third of your miners when you fired everyone without a family.”
“I know, and I felt horribly about that.” I look down in shame as I say this.
“Well, you certainly can’t fire anyone in quality control. We need them to make sure everything is up to par.”
“You’re right about that.”
“That leaves the cargo pilots and the ship loaders.”
“We can fire half the ship loaders, but keep the pilots. That should do the trick.”
“How do you want me to decide this?” His stark expression shows impatience and dissatisfaction with me.
“Who has the best fulfillment rate? We’ll have to interview them to see who on each team works the hardest and who doesn’t.”
“Then we better get started.”
“We’ll start tomorrow. Set up meetings with every ship loader on our dock. I’ll interview half of them, you the other half. Also, check the logs on the individual miners and fire a quarter of those who made the last cut. Whoever has the lowest mining quantity per month for the last six months.”
“Will do, Boss.” He reveals his contempt for me in his raised eyebrows and tight mouth.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
And at that, the head of human resources left the room. He didn’t want to fire so many people. I could tell he had a soft spot for all of them. They had gotten to know him over the years they had been with the operation. I would take on the burden of firing the people for him.
*
When Jelise called me later that night, I learned that they had made it a quarter of the way through harvesting the remaining lettuce. The other two batches of lettuce were too small to harvest and only in their first and second month of growth. It would take three more days to harvest everything. Hopefully they wouldn’t die by then. They could get it done just in time for the irrigation specialist to arrive and they could be out of their way. They still needed to trash the two younger batches, but that could be done during and after the irrigation specialist worked.
*
It’s the next day and I have my first meetings with the ship loaders. One loader in particular – Marcello – is making the process extremely difficult. He makes me afraid of what he could do to my children, once they’re born.
“But I don’t understand. The rest of my team just doesn’t like my way of joking around. I’m not lazy like they say I am. I work really hard.” His eyes are wide, his legs are wide apart in his seat and he’s leaning towards me with his elbows on my desk and his fists clenched.
“That’s not how the rest of the team tells it. Without fail, and without communicating with each other, they all said you’re not a good worker. We have to fire someone.” I sit with my legs crossed, my gaze steady and my face expressionless. I’m in a holding pattern of no emotion.
“This is total bullshit. I’m gonna sue you for wrongful termination!” Marcello slams the side of his fist down on the desk.
“That won’t hold up in court. As long as the rest of your team sticks to the same story about you, there’s not foundation for your claim. The judge will dismiss it.”
“So you admit, it could be a story! It is one! I just joke around too rough with them!” His eyebrows are raised now and his hands are palm-down on the desk, pleading.
“If that is the case, then you’re not professional enough to work here either.” I say this, still cold to his entreaties and not moving an inch.
“That’s bullshit. Everyone teases each other on the docks. Most teams are okay with it. I just got the super sensitive type of people to work with!” His fists are clenched again.
“That may even be so. But the fact of the matter is, the team will be better off without you.”
“I’ll get you back for this — you have my word!” And he stormed out of the room.
I didn’t want to admit I’m afraid of him, but I was. I didn’t know what he would do: sabotage the mining operation? Mess with my aerial back on Earth? He would get there before I would. Burn my farm down? I didn’t want to find out. But I could’t give into threats, or I wouldn’t be able to fire anyone and I would lose my authority over these people.
*
During one of my meetings with a ship loader the next day, a blaring siren started ringing across the base. And then an announcement came on: “There is a failure in the oxygen system. Please evacuate to the nearest escape capsule.” This didn’t surprise me. Of course this would happen while I was here. It’s a big fear of mine.
I dropped everything I was holding on the floor – pen, clipboard, coffee. I put on my personal oxygen mask and ran out the door of my office. I scrambled through the base and watched as some people started the get woozy. Some people are more sensitive to oxygen levels than others. I found the nearest map of the base, inside my office, and identified the escape pod I was supposed to get to.
I struggled through the crowds and pushed my way until I finally made it to the escape capsule. It was small and cramped. Everyone felt like giants in this tiny capsule. We were inches away from each other sitting in two concentric circles. The capsule could pilot automatically, you just have to choose the sky port you want to go to, but it could also be manually piloted by any one of us in any seat.
We were waiting for four more people, to fill it up to the maximum of ten. It was the most harrowing fifteen minutes of my life. At least I had my personal oxygen mask, so even if the base ran out before then, I’d be okay. We couldn’t close the latch and start depending on the capsule’s oxygen until everyone arrived.
Finally, after fifteen minutes, we had four more people in the capsule and could escape quickly. But we were one of the last escape capsules that left the Moon. We flew towards Earth and hoped we would make landfall in time. Luckily, one of the people in the capsule with us was a pilot.
Unfortunately, when we got into Earth’s orbit, there was no room at any of the sky ports for us to land. There was already a line of a hundred capsules ahead of us waiting their turn. So, our pilot made a risky choice. He decided we should fly to a space station in orbit around Venus, because there would certainly be places to land around there. We could all stay in hotels for the night and return to Earth in a day or two, once the capsules had all had their chance to land and their passengers had disembarked.
I loathed this plan. Not only did I not want to be in space in the first place, but my worst fears had been realized when the oxygen system failed on the Moon. Who knows how long it would be until my workers could safely get back in and continue mining and shipping my helium. That would set the business back a lot.
Anyway, I was terrified of Venus. The sun can blind you if you look straight at it from there. The people are all rowdy and raucous and not very clean. On top of that, it was Delia’s favorite place in the galaxy. It was distracting enough being in their office on the Moon. Being where they spent most of their time would bring me to tears. I didn’t know where the safe places to stay on the station were, and I was worried about getting a ticket back to Earth. And what if something went wrong on the Venus station? Nothing bad had happened for a hundred years on the Moon, until I showed up with my bad luck. Who knows what could happen on Venus.
*
We landed on Venus safely and dispersed to find our own ways back to Earth. I didn’t see anything headed for Earth in the next few hours, so I decided to get a room at a hotel for the night. I found a really nice one not too far from where we docked the escape capsule. And that was a relief, because I was practically waddling at this point.
I decided to order room service and enjoy myself while I’m here. I slept like a cloud.
First thing in the morning I went over to the sunning deck and started to work on my tan. Delia was right, one can’t get a tan anywhere else like this. I felt I was honoring her by doing what she loved to do. They played instrumental jazz the whole time and it really started to feel like a vacation.
When I was walking back to my room, I heard Viola Frank through the television in one of the bars, so I stopped to listen:
“Today, we’ve made history. With this majority vote in the General Assembly, Earth governments will begin investing in renewable energy at an affordable price, so that those helium slingers will be put out of business. Some may cling to the past and continue using that finite energy, but the rest of us will have a chance at a future.” The crowd surrounding her in downtown New York cheered.
“But now the harder work begins. We must ensure our governments are efficient in their installation of renewable energy. We must open a labor market for workers to build these sites. We must start working towards making it a reality.” She took a pause. The crowd was silent – they could tell she had more to say.
“Companies must produce enough solar panels and wind turbines to keep up with the demand that the new quota creates. Local governments must comply with what their nations have agreed to and replace their old forms of energy with the new, the renewable. We need people to choose to install solar panels at their homes to help feed the grid, rather than take from it. It will take all of us working together.” Everyone cheered again, but she wasn’t quite finished.
“So go out and do that thing you know you need to do: for your city, for your country, for the world, for every world. Do it now.” The crowd went wild. Children sat on adults’ shoulders and waved banners and ribbons. People screamed until they were hoarse. Her supporters were dancing in the streets.
*
All of a sudden, when I was walking back to my room, I felt contractions. Not just phantom ones that I’d had before, but the real deal. It’s time, the babies were coming. My water broke, and I sat down on a steel bench against a window across the street from the bar and called for help. I didn’t know where the nearest hospital was or how to get transported there. Is it 1-1-2 like back home? I didn’t have my phone on me – I left it in my room.
A few people came up and stood around me, watching, but they didn’t call an ambulance. Next thing I knew, the angry loader Marcello came up to me and asked how far apart my contractions were. He seemed genuinely concerned for me. I guess he didn’t hold it against me that I fired him — or at least, he ignored that for the sake of the children. He took out his phone and called an ambulance. Then he helped me remember how to breathe. He held my hand until the ambulance got there. Then he rode in the back with me all the way to the hospital. The sirens blared and I could see the lights against the station walls out the front window.
When I got there they transferred me to labor and delivery and Marcello followed me there. He asked me where the father was and I told him I didn’t need one, I used a sperm donor. Then he made a face like he thought I was crazy. He didn’t stay in the room for the delivery, but he waited outside until we were all three in the clear and came in to check on me.
The delivery itself was excruciating. I’ve never felt something so painful and difficult in my life. It felt like my lower half was exploding and the babies were ripping me to shreds. I could feel everything – I never went numb or passed out. The room was painted a soft cream color with pink curtains around the bed and matching Venetian blinds on the windows. The floor was heated steel.
I named the girl Delia, after my sister, and the boy I named Dylon, which is close to Delia. It means “sea” in Welsh. Delia means moon goddess, and is the name of the island where the Greek gods Artemis and Apollo were born.
*
After the kids were born, I needed to recover in the hospital for a few days. They moved me to a different room with blue curtains and blinds everywhere. Marcello came to visit me every day for the first three. Then his visits kind of petered off after that. I hadn’t heard from Jelise in a while, so I gave her a call from my hospital bed.
“Hey, Jelise, how are you? How’s the farm?”
“I’m good, I’m good… But we have another problem.”
“Oh no, what now?”
“Last night… some kids came and vandalized the outside of every building. They hit both of our farms, so it seems targeted. The police are here right now taking statements and assessing the damage.”
“Oh god, what exactly did they do?” I say this with a tremor in my voice. I can only imagine the harm they could do, and I can’t do anything from here.
Jelise responds hesitantly and carefully, looking down every few seconds out of some misplaced shame. “They spray painted each side of the building with a symbol for the renewables movement. I guess they know you own one of the biggest helium-3 mines on the Moon.”
“That makes sense. Didn’t our cameras catch them?” I’m calling down somewhat by now.
“They were wearing black ski masks and hoodies, so there’s no identification on any of them.” Jelise seems genuinely upset while she says this.
“That’s terrible. Are you all alright? They didn’t harm you did they?” I say.
“No, nothing like that. It was just some hooligans being rebellious, nothing major.”
And she was right, they’re just kids trying to do the right thing by being brazen. They didn’t hurt anyone and they have a right to express their opinions. I just wish they didn’t do it on my property.
Now I’m in organizer mode. Boss mode. “Well, we need the outer walls power washed after the insurance company takes a look at it. I’ll send them over today or tomorrow, as soon as I can get a hold of them.”
“Good idea. I’m sorry this happened.” Jelise looks down again and sort of fidgets with her hands.
“It’s not your fault! Don’t be sorry! I’m glad I called right now.”
“I was gonna call you after the police left.”
“I know, don’t worry about it. It’s just some paint, it’s easily gotten rid of.”
“Okay…. Thanks…” Jelise kind of trails off as she says this.
“No problem…. I wanted to tell you all, I had the twins – Delia and Dylon.”
“That’s amazing! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, I’m so relieved they’re healthy, after all the trauma I’ve been through for the past month. But it’s weird they were born on Venus. I guess Delia would have been proud.”
“I’m sure she would, Adeline.” Jelise didn’t know her very well, or at all really. But it’s comforting to hear this.
“Anyway, I should be back on Earth in a few days.”
“Great, we’re all looking forward to seeing you.”
“Me too.”
*
Five days later I was released from the hospital. I asked Marcello to buy a twin stroller for me and gave him some extra money for delivering it to the hospital. He thanked me but didn’t take the money. I insisted, but he said no. I also told him I would rehire him on the Moon as soon as things were up and running there again. But I told him not to tell anyone that he had been fired at all.
The stroller was a stark white polyester with metal supports underneath the baskets and metal wheels. As I placed the babies in it, I thought about how lucky I was to have them. I thought about how lucky we were that we were on Venus instead of on the Moon. Venus has much better healthcare, even better than most places on Earth.
I found a flight back to Earth for the next day. I went back to the same hotel. They had gathered my belongings and held it in the left luggage area of the lobby for me until I returned. Then I went shopping. I needed diapers, wipes, a breast pump, baby bottle, and so many other things. I knew I would get the bulk of it on Earth, but I needed enough for the next two days.
That night, I barely slept because the babies were so demanding. They have such soft, sweet cries though, and they really are dears.
The next day, I boarded the ship. It was bigger than the one I had gone to the Moon in, and much bigger than the emergency capsule. It was gray steel throughout with a mylar layer inside on all the walls and ceilings. It looked very grim, but I was too happy to have my babies and be going home to mind it. The ship had solar sails as well as rockets and absorbed the heat from the sun to warm the inside of the passenger decks.
As we hurled through space, the babies’ stroller tightly strapped to the floor and their bodies tightly strapped in the stroller, I thought back through my entire trip. Some of it was harrowing, some of it was exciting, some of it was boring and some of it was delightful. Delia would have loved it, as I would always love her.