Chapter 24 #3
Dutch waved it off. “Well, I’m hardly a carpenter. But I am interested in your plight, Doctor Razner. We’ve had clean air on our space stations for millennia. I distinctly remember showing humanity how to replicate it.”
“You … remember?” Celise repeated skeptically.
Nasra interjected. “Nylarians had very flexible lifespans—the oldest in the galaxy, in fact. We still have no idea how old they can get.”
“Neither do I,” Dutch said cheerfully.
Torian sighed. “Well, if you showed humanity, they clearly forgot.” Bitterness tinged her voice.
“Or a select few remember exactly how, but have other intentions,” Nasra muttered.
When everyone looked at her, she shrugged.
“I’ve been studying human psychology. Just because I think your species deserves another chance doesn’t mean they’re perfect.
Like most species, with enough power comes corruption. ”
Torian scowled. “Of fucking course. Point me at ’em.”
“Me, too.” Zen hefted the board over his shoulder. In his hands, it almost looked like a dangerous weapon.
Celise shifted her weight, redirecting their attention.
“That’s our biggest issue. We know that cleaner air drastically improves symptoms and lifespan, but the odds of us fixing air purification on every colony station is slim.
Which means we’ll need to address the human body instead.
We need a cure, and that might take time. ”
But Dutch was shaking his head, a fond smile on his lips. “Humans. Always overcomplicating things. If you know better air quality is the key, then we determine barriers to implementing it on your colonies.”
“Easier said than done,” Celise replied. “Air purification systems are expensive and complicated to install. And even your system isn’t perfect.”
“What do you mean?” Torian asked sharply.
Celise crossed her arms. “I’ve felt a tickle in my throat since we disembarked the Destitute. Any artificial air, no matter how finely processed, is inadequate for my condition.”
Dutch waved this information away. His hair was glowing with tiny blue lights that trailed like dewdrops down a string, and they moved faster now.
“Of course you have. Vaesa’s air is very stale.
Once, this station met the standard of the Destiny—ah, apologies, the Destitute—but now those systems are breaking down. Moss is the key to repairing them.”
On cue, Moss intoned from a nearby speaker: “I am the key to everything.”
“How modest,” Zen drawled.
“I do not consign to modesty. I am responsible for your life.”
Torian swallowed a laugh, feeling relieved the proverbial cavalry had arrived. With all of these aliens around her, with the kerrac tree’s majesty overhead, surely Celise would recognize this as the best option. Even a “tickle” in her throat was better than compulsively coughing blood.
If her sister refused this now, she’d either be stupid … or very, very scared.
Celise probably was scared, but she was also nodding along, contemplative now. “I suppose we could start with one sample size. See the lingering effects on my recovery, document my condition as Moss improves the air quality here…”
Dutch clapped her shoulder. “Yes! Eventually, we can turn our solution outward, but to convince your leaders, we’ll need data.
Proof that Moss’s version of life support will be cost-effective and beneficial to every human colony.
And in the meantime … well, Torian is planning to build a true colony here.
Even Zen’s medic isn’t trained on humans. Folks might wind up needing a doctor.”
At some point, Nasra’s eyes had begun to sparkle again. Zen shifted the piece of lumber in his arms, but even he seemed curious about Celise’s response. Moss was silent, but undoubtedly also waiting for her reply.
Hope, warm and dangerous, fluttered in Torian’s chest.
Vaesa could hold the key to everything—but “everything” was too big. For so many years, Torian had only been able to think about saving Celise—nothing else mattered when her sister could die tomorrow.
Only now was Torian able to acknowledge how exhausting that was.
It would be really, really nice to engage in her own mental health for a bit. Pursue something she wanted. Rest where she could. Enjoy a new community.
It sounded freeing.
When Celise glanced at her, she must have seen that etched in Torian’s face. Her expression softened, and she squeezed Torian’s arm. “I … I think I have to thank you, Tor. You did all this for me, and … it’s amazing. With Vaesa and this support system … I’d be a stubborn fool not to move here.”
“Well, you’re a stubborn fool most days, so—”
Celise smacked Torian’s arm.
Torian laughed, rubbing the spot, feeling light as a feather. “It’s the right choice, Lise.” Torian glanced around the residential ring, at the group of draics, at the empty townhouses and apartments, at the overgrown plants. “I think we can do a lot of good here.”
Zen chuckled, a grumbling sound that would have been a threat from anyone else. “Do you want to see your clinic, Doctor? It’s a mess.”
“Most clinics are,” Celise said cheerfully.
Together, Celise followed the aliens into her new home.