Page 74 of Cloverleaf Station

[It’s not that,] Kieron interrupted before Catie could go full temper tantrum on Elenus. [You’ve both shown a lot of initiative with taking the lead on this. You’ve come up with some brilliant plans, and I’m proud of that, but. Catie, you didn’t tell us what was going on. You and Lizzie didn’t even bother to inform us, much less ask us.]

[Lizzie said you were tiiiiired,] Catie whined.

[It’s true,] he said. The colors inside Lizzie were warbling between warm and cold—she knew they were talking about her. She was probably listening in. Kieron continued. [I was. I am. But that’s not a good enough reason to leave me out of the loop. What if things went wrong? What if the mercy fleet you rerouted ended up in trouble because of it, or if their captain had an alternate reason for wanting to come into Traktan space? And what about what you gave him to get them here? Your spoofing algorithms are cutting edge, the best … and now they’re in the hands of someone we don’t know, that we haven’t vetted, someone who could use them for all sorts of things that aren’t legal and could hurt a lot of people. Do you see where I’m going with this?]

[But … I thought we were doing good!] This was Lizzie. [I thought you would be happy, Kee.]

[I’m happy you’re looking out for me,] he assured her. [Less happy you’re giving away what should be very rarified information to a man we’ve never met before, without any sort of fail-safe. The Traktan refugees aren’t having fun, it’s true, and Pol does need his mother, and I am sick and tired. But that’s life, honey. We get through the tough times and end up safer, or at least I hope we do. In this case? Now we don’t know.]

[Oh.] That was both girls, Catie sounding contrite, Lizzie sounding devastated. [We’re sorry.]

[You should be!] Elenus finally couldn’t contain himself anymore. [Why do you have to be so smart? I should have given you both slower processors; it would keep you from growing up so fast and getting to the point where you want to argue over everything, and—what’s next, huh? You decide someone’s been mean to Kieron, so you invade their planet? You think Pol needs his own moon, so you steal the tech you need to swipe it for him? After we get these people back to Gania, you girls are grounded, do you hear me? No connectivity for a week!]

[Daddeeeee!] Catie wailed. Lizzie didn’t say anything. [That’s not faaaair!]

[Neither is going behind our backs to arrange all of this. Be happy it isn’t for a month.] He closed his link, and a moment later, Catie closed hers, too, although not before she sang a little song at Kieron. That left him alone with Lizzie.

[Are you really angry at me?] she asked after a moment.

[I’m not angry, I’m just a little disappointed.] He wasn’t expecting her to wail when he said that, but she did, all the colors around him going a dark, muddy purple.

[I’m sorry,] Lizzie said in a small voice. [I thought it was helping you.]

[It was, in a way. But it’s also not good that you negotiated in my name, with someone I don’t know, and went so far as to imitate me over the comm without asking my permission.] Pol stirred again, and Kieron sighed and tried to hold still. [But I know you won’t do it again.]

[No, I won’t. I promise.]

[Good. Thank you.] Reaching out, he patted the wall of the ship. “It’s okay,” he murmured out loud. “It’s all going to be okay.”

And the purple slowly lightened to blue.

***

After that, Kieron worked harder to keep up with Lizzie and Catie’s technical arrangements and manipulations, which were somehow getting them all to Gania two days ahead of schedule. He also made sure to schedule time for Pol and Xilinn to talk every standard day, sometimes twice. Xilinn’s implant had been shut down, like everyone who’d been on the refugee ship, and the mercy fleet didn’t have the technology to reinstate them, but they made private communications possible for the mother and son. No one else over there needed them, after all—it would be far too dangerous to communicate with someone back on Trakta via implant, and all ship-based comms were being intercepted by the government.

Making time for himself was harder. There was just too much to do. Lizzie should have never felt like she had to take such a leading role for this mission—she was just a child herself. That she and Catie would go behind his back to do so wasn’t surprising. They were both compassionate people, and Catie, at least, had Elenus’s sense of mischief. But he was … he was the parent, damn it. He wasn’t going to be like his own mother, throwing a child into the wilderness and telling it to survive or else. He was going to take care of Lizzie, and Pol, and everyone else he damn well could until he didn’t have to anymore.

Pulling that off meant consuming more coffee than was good for him, having short daily Regen sessions to replenish his reserves, and putting a good face on their still-precarious position. Everyone involved in this, from Xilinn to Pol to Captain Hu to Elenus himself, was relying on one person to make sure it all stuck together: Kieron. He wasn’t going to let them down by being too tired or too fuzzy headed to handle whatever came their way.

Apart from some sickness on board the mercy fleet vessels, thanks to ill refugees and an engine malfunction that had them all paused while Lizzie in her “Kieron” guise figured out what to do for it, though, it went as well as he could hope. They made it to Gania in good time, and although everyone was restless by the time they got there, no one was actively having a mental or emotional breakdown, which … had been a problem early on. Thank goodness, the mercy fleet had a large staff of medical professionals in addition to Regen treatments because they’d intervened in three suicide attempts and were treating a host of anxiety disorders in the refugees.

Elenus had coordinated with Captain Hu to provide everyone with informational sessions on Gania and what to expect when they got there, but Kieron mostly ignored those. He had to if he was going to have time for everything else. That’s why he thought it was excusable when they finally had Gania in their sights, and all he could do was stare at it for the longest time. It was so … shiny. The oceans were shiny, the land was shiny, the city was shiny …

“There is a great deal of mica in the natural environment,” Lizzie supplied quietly.

Kieron sighed. “How did you know what I was thinking, hmm?”

“You haven’t blinked in nearly a minute, Kee. I assumed it was a reaction to the planet, and that the mostly likely cause was the unexpected appearance of it.”

“Good assumption.” He rubbed his eyes, which were rather dry now. “You’ve got the landing coordinates, I take it?”

“I do.”

“I’ll let you handle taking us in, then.” He glanced at Pol, who was also rapt at the striking image of Gania. “Ready to see your mother?”

“Yes,” Pol whispered, reaching out and taking Kieron’s hand. Kieron gave him a gentle squeeze as they neared the planet, finally descending through the atmosphere and heading toward Kellin, Elenus’s home city. The mercy fleet followed suit, and soon they were all landing at a large, well-appointed space dock at the edge of the metropolis, held up on elevated platforms.

The city itself was an amazing sight, with buildings so tall that they seemed to create their own ecosystem of light and dark, heat and cold. Kieron was sure he saw clouds drifting off one of the larger ones—perhaps created by releasing water into the sky? Why bother, though? He’d have to ask Elenus … whenever he saw him, which likely wouldn’t be for hours yet.