Lifeline

He closed his eyes and pulled a deep breath of humid air into his lungs. “This war will put the Aguinaldo’s future in grave danger. I suspect Dr. Sandovaal is already working on projections of our existing food supply.” The dato’s hand was clenched at his side; the long fingernails were digging into his palms. “The Council will need that information if we are to select our next course of action.”

“I will ask him, President Magsaysay.” Dobo frowned and dropped his voice. “But I cannot promise that you will like what he has to say.”

Magsaysay swept his hand out over the expanse of the star-filled viewing wall. “If the United States is no longer able to ferry food and supplies to the colonies, then we will face some hard decisions. I want to be sure that we are well informed beforehand.”

He went on, mumbling as if to himself. “The Soviet Union might not be as damaged by the war as the United States. We could be forced to open a dialogue with them if it is necessary for our survival—no matter what promises we made to the Americans. All the rules have changed now.”

Magsaysay stopped, then smiled down at Ramis. “I am chattering like an old politician. Dobo, I would like to speak with Ramis.”

Dobo bowed and moved away from Ramis and Magsaysay, heading for the observatory alcove.

Magsaysay stood in silence. He looked down at Earth, toward the curving horizon where the archipelago of the Philippine Islands would remain hidden under the swirls of clouds. The president spoke quietly.

“Luis Sandovaal and I were close friends many years ago, long before the Aguinaldo was even a dream. I knew your parents when Dr. Sandovaal recruited them to come with him up to L-4. I made it a point to know everyone back then. You see, if a leader loses touch with the people, then it is time for him to step down and let himself be replaced.” He shook his head. “But today there are so many people I do not know. How can I possibly make these decisions?”

He glanced at his timepiece, then frowned, as if time had no meaning anymore. Ramis remained quiet, unsure of what to say. The dato turned to leave, then looked Ramis in the eye, as if he had forgotten to say something.

“The future depends on people such as yourself, Ramis—people willing to take chances.” He held up a finger. “We need you, so do not get hurt when you go Jumping alone at night.”

Magsaysay stepped onto the stickum of the slidewalk, and rested his hand on the railing.

Ramis watched him, his face feeling flushed. How did he know?

Behind the viewing wall, the Earth was swirled with thick clouds now. Only a few sparse patches of blue managed to peek out from beneath the cover. No land was visible.

Ramis decided against flying freefall along the core to get back home. Though his barrio in the Luzon housing area was at the opposite end of the colony, he followed Magsaysay down the slidewalk. A shadow skittered along the ground in front of him. Overhead, a sail-creature nymph whipped past, released early by the unscheduled dawn. Ramis squinted, but he couldn’t make out any markings on the creature’s fins. Once on the colony floor, he caught a jeepney to his home.

Chapter 2

ORBITECH 1—Day 1

The industrial colony Orbitech 1 hung at L-5 with its supply lines cut—fifteen hundred people, stranded and helpless. They pressed their faces and palms against observation windows, staring at the wounded Earth far below. Still in a state of shock, they had not thought to mourn for their past, for their memories.

Most of the people wallowed in self-protective confusion and shock. They had not yet faced the realization that they would get no more supplies from Earth.

But Duncan McLaris, the Production Division leader on Orbitech 1, came to that conclusion not ten minutes after the war started.

He tried to look casual as he approached the shuttle-tug Miranda. The Miranda was tied down in the colony’s docking bay, seeming to glow in the harsh lights reflected from the clean metal walls.

Boxes of Orbitech 1 export products were tethered throughout the bay area: large, perfect crystals grown in zero gravity, three-dimensional computer chips, superconducting wires, pharmaceuticals, strange alloys with baffling electromagnetic properties … the list of Orbitechnology accomplishments ran on and on.

Rah rah for the company, McLaris thought.

The docking bay seemed deserted. Everyone else was huddling in their quarters or sobbing in the community rooms. The last shuttle looked empty and alone. McLaris called out, “Hello—anybody in there?”

Seconds passed. McLaris started to turn when the pilot, Stephanie Garland, pushed out of the shuttle, wiping her hands on her dark-blue coverall. She eyed McLaris and set her mouth.