Tranquility Divided

Part Seven

by G. Lawrence

Recap; Grey took a small party to investigate an Arikhan incursion with disastrous results. Wounded and ridden with guilt for the mission's failure, Grey retreated to a dark place, losing hope of fulfilling his destiny. But the Quexelian entities, now on their way home (see Tranquility In Darkness), have left Grey one final challenge; a ghost walk. And Tamera has come to join him. All characters are over 18 years old.

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Chapter Eight

GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS PAST

The night was dark, lit only by a paling half-moon peeking through the clouds. The ground was rough. Churned. Difficult to make out, except for some tattered trees that hung like skeletons on the horizon.

"I'm glad we're not on fire," Tamera said, leaving the smoldering pit behind.

"Being on fire is unpleasant," Grey agreed from experience. "I believe the flame was just an illusion, though. This might not be."

A red rocket burst in the sky overhead, giving the landscape a bloody glow. Shell craters and lost weapons lay all around them. Not blasters and spent power packs, but old-fashioned rifles and bayonets.

"Any clue where we are?" Tamera asked, thinking the scene looked like something from an old war movie.

"If forced to guess, I'd say Belgium," Grey speculated.

"This isn't Belgium, Grey. Nick and I stayed in Ghent just before our mission. It's beautiful. The whole country is beautiful."

"It wasn't in 1918."

Another rocket lit the heavens, then suddenly there was a huge explosion that rocked the Earth, knocking them both down. Grey dragged Tamera into a crater and covered her with his body. Another explosion. Then another. The barrage lasted nearly an hour.

"Let's find someplace quieter," Grey suggested, helping her up.

They stumbled across the burnt ground, climbed through a torn barbwire fence, and came to a half dug trench that the wet weather was trying to convert into a creek. Tamera gasped as a flare showed the bottom of the trench littered with bones and rotting corpses.

"There's no one alive out here, Grey. It's some perverse version of hell."

"They called it No-Man's Land. The best and brightest of an entire generation died here in one futile battle after another."

"What does this have to do with us?" Tamera asked, ducking as another shell streaked across the sky.

"They died here without purpose, Tammy. Millions of them. Died because arrogant leaders refused to admit their tactics were outdated. And I get the idea. Do you hear me? I get the idea!" Grey shouted to the sky rather than Tamera.

A moment later, a dim light appeared above the stinking death, and from the light, an image emerged. A red-robed woman floating just a few meters above the ground.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me," Roman greeted.

"Tamera didn't disappoint you. I would have," Grey replied.

Roman smiled indulgently at Grey, then gave Tamera a thankful nod.

"Follow me," Roman ordered, drifting across the broken landscape.

Grey knew it was not really Roman. Roman wasn't even a person. The real Roman was an entity of energized crystal. A rock. All else was illusion.

The ground was so broken that it was difficult to cross in places. Grey helped Tamera over the worst parts until they reached a flat, quiet piece of land. A graveyard. A graveyard where white crosses were set row upon row as far as the eye could see.

"Why have you brought us here?" Tamera asked.

"This is not the destination, only the viewing point," Roman replied, waving her hand for dramatic effect.

The scene changed. They were no longer outdoors on a battlefield, but in a dark tunnel. A corridor. They were on the moon.

The corridor was quiet, at first. Tamera recognized it as the short stretch of tunnel between the Governor's Quarters and the dismantled safety deposit area. Only the safety deposit area was no longer dismantled. The chiming of the Security Computer could be heard through the door.

Suddenly, without warning, the harsh crackle of an electrical disrupter caused both Grey and Tamera to jump back. In the same instant, someone was blown through the door, flying across the hall to crash into the opposing wall.

"Oh, God," Tamera whispered in horror.

Lying against the wall in a crumpled ball was a small boy, barely five years old, his chest burned by the disrupter beam.

"What's happened? What is this?" Tamera asked.

Grey said nothing. He only stared as two medical units arrived, scanned the victim, and placed the frail figure in a black body bag for the trip to Tranquility's morgue. From farther down the hall, in the Governor's Quarters, violent computer exchanges could be heard coming from the monitor room.

"Grey, what is it?" Tamera questioned, seeing him stare blankly at the body.

"That was me. It's the night Security attacked me for the first time, but I was only wounded."

"What if you had not been wounded?" Roman asked, appearing in the hall behind them. "What if you'd been killed as you recently wished?"

"What if angels sat on pin-heads?" Grey responded with contempt.

The scene shifted. Grey and Tamera were now in the monitor room standing before the largest visual screen. Tracking had an asteroid in view. A big one. Readouts running across the bottom of the display provided frequent updates.

"It's TL-68, Grey. The Bulldozer. And it's headed straight toward Earth," Tamera said, taking Grey's hand. "We saw this on our vid when I was a teenager. Everyone was so scared."

So was I, Grey thought.

"Don't worry, the warheads will detonate just in time," Tamera remembered as they watched the long-range satellite images.

The huge asteroid grew ever larger and more fearsome. Twelve kilometers long, three kilometers in diameter, and densely massed, the rogue spun on its axis like a thick stone spear perfectly poised for a direct impact. It soon reached the threshold point, a yellow line on the screen after which no explosion would avoid disaster.

"Now. It will happen now," Tamera breathlessly said, clutching Grey's hand even harder.

There was no explosion. Nothing to divert the course of the killer space rock. Nuclear tipped missiles launched from makeshift orbital platforms but with little effect. The mass was too large, the momentum too great.

"Oh, God, it's going to hit us!" Tamera shouted.

It did. In a blur, TL-68 sheared through the atmosphere and plunged into the Atlantic Ocean just above the equator, exploding in a blinding flash of fire and smoke that rapidly blanketed the entire planet.

"Earth is destroyed!" Tamera cried, hanging on Grey's arm.

"Not all of it," Grey observed.

"Enough. Look at those casualty figures, Grey. A billion people."

Across the bottom of the screen, the readout was providing continuously updated death reports, the figures increasing exponentially. Three billion. Four. Five.

"It's a vision of the past, isn't it?" Tamera guessed. "A past that could have been if the Security Computer killed you. If you weren't there to set off the warheads."

"I understand your point, Roman. If events had transpired differently in 2054, it might have affected the mission eleven years later."

"Different? Grey, billions of people are dead!"

"You don't know the whole history, Tammy. Senator Norquist made a secret arrangement with the Defense Computer to support NA Salvation. As the astronauts approached the asteroid, they knew a back-up craft was on the way. I believe Defense suspected I might be of help, though nothing was ever said. If not for me, Tranquility might not have offered assistance. The astronauts might have made different choices. They might even have survived."

"You may fool yourself, Grey Waters. You may try to fool Tamera, but you cannot change that which would have been," Roman lectured.

"Let's pretend for a moment that I accept your vision, Roman. Say that once, at an earlier point in my life, I served a useful purpose. It proves nothing. The stowaway you speak of did not set out to save the world, only to seek adventure. A youthful indiscretion. Had Salvation's ejection pod not been functional, the stowaway would have died along with the astronauts."

Grey glanced at Tamera and stopped his rambling. He had already said more than he ever intended.

"You've shown me nothing but empty ghosts," Grey dismissed.

"All is not yet revealed," Roman warned. "Say the young man who may have saved billions had perished in the destruction of the asteroid. Has the life he might have lived since then held no value?"

"A marginal value," Grey conceded.

"Let us discover this marginal value," Roman continued, leaving the monitor room for the empty corridors of the community level. Grey and Tamera followed, passing through the deserted quad and down the abandoned promenade where the darkened stores and shuttered cafes stood quiet.

"I never knew how creepy this place could be without people," Tamera said with a shiver. "Is this how it was while you were growing up? Living in a haunted house?"

"This was my home," he replied.

They went up the ramp to the second floor, then turned into the medical center. Grey slowed as they passed through the autopsy theatre toward the morgue at the back of the chamber. Tamera pulled him forward.

"The bodies! They're back!" Tamera shouted as they entered the cold storage vault. "It's just like it was when we first came here, before the burials."

"No, it's not the same," Grey instantly knew. "It's more crowded. And there's a hatch into the supply room that wasn't here before."

Suddenly Grey found his breathing grow faster. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. He stood frozen at the entrance as Tamera went to inspect the first row of crystal clear coffins.

"Holy Mother of April!" Tamera exclaimed. "It's Laureen McKinsey. Doctor Laureen McKinsey. But she wasn't here in November. Zopek and Fairfield took her body back with them in Silent Wind over a year ago."

McKinsey was not the only mysterious addition to the morgue. Grey saw other containers hastily crammed into the corners.

"This is weird, Grey," Tamera said. "These coffins weren't here, either. It looks like... oh, no. No, it can't be. It's Major Vandebrown, so burned you'd hardly recognize him. And this one is..."

Tamera backed up, unable to complete the sentence. She had been looking at a casket laying on the floor in the aisle only a meter from her sister's container. Catarina Kantanee had died three years before Tamera came to the moon. This body was more recent.

"Grey, don't look," Tamera urged, trying to block him.

Grey gently pushed her aside and kneeled down, looking into the refrigerated face of the body on the floor. The body belonged to Captain Kris Fairfield. Her hair was burned, the torso distorted. Postmortem notes indicated she had died in a shuttle crash on July 22, 2069.

"I wasn't here to save her. I wasn't here to save any of them," Grey realized.

Tamera saw what he meant. The bodies of Valerie Fairfield and Michael Zopek lay nearby.

"This isn't real, Grey. You were here for them. You saved them," Tamera said. Grey knew it was true, intellectually, but he still felt the rude tearing at his emotions.

Appearing nearby, Roman waved her arm. The hatch to the storage room opened by itself.

"I've seen enough," Tamera begged.

This time it was Grey who led the way, drawing Tamera into the new chamber.

"No, it can't be. Not all of us!" Tamera gasped.

"You have a vision of what could be," Roman explained, taking center stage. Around her lay fifty containers, and where it appeared the morgue had run out of containers, bodies in various stages of decay had simply been stacked on the floor.

"There's General Larson," Tamera said, pointing at the container nearest the door. "And Johnny. And Michiko. No! No! Not Nicholas!"

Tamera dropped to the floor in tears, running her hands over the top of the clear casket. The body had been brutally depressurized but still held enough form for recognition. Then Tamera saw the body next to him and nearly stopped breathing.

"That's me. I died on the second day of the invasion," she said, reading the tag. "Nicholas and I died when Sharkov's hull depressurized."

"You didn't die, Tammy," Grey assured her, wrapping his arms around her. "Not you. Not Nick. Not Johnny, Michiko or Wes. It's just an illusion. A trick of the rocks."

"This is no trick, Grey Waters Governor of the Moon," Roman insisted. "This is your world as it could be."

"Could be?" Grey asked.

"You created this reality. You may stay here, as you wished, or leave upon a different path. Leave this world behind entirely," Roman explained. "Perhaps you may even seek a different life? One free of the burdens you find so tiresome."

Grey held Tamera tighter, his face buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her life force. Tamera felt the firm grip. It was not painful, but it embraced her like steel. For the first time in her life, she recognized a strength that went beyond human muscle. Beyond death, or hope, or dreams. She wasn't afraid anymore. Whatever power the Quexelian entity might have, it didn't come close to matching Grey's.

"None of this happened. It will never have happened," Grey stated. "I stopped Defense from destroying New Ranger. I saved Tammy and Nick before the Sharkov imploded. And I stopped the sentinel class seekers from destroying the invasion force. This vision is false."

"It's not false if you weren't here," Roman responded.

"I was here," he answered.

"Are you sure?" Roman asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Grey confirmed.

Reality altered. The morgue disappeared. Grey immediately sighed with relief, as did Tamera. They embraced with a subtle joy, sensing that somehow they had flirted with disaster.

Roman was gone.

Grey and Tamera were sitting on the floor of the medical center just inside the emergency entrance. He helped her up and they walked out to the balcony overlooking the lower promenade.

"It's our Tranquility, Grey! There's George and Latka. And little Gregor. We're home."

"It's not our Tranquility, Tammy. We're ghosts. I don't think anyone can see us."

They turned as Doctor Gately emerged from the medical center, glanced down toward a handsome young man waiting for her outside the theatre, and then walked right through them.

"That was raw," Tamera complained, checking her body for damage.

"It's another trick," Grey assured her

"Not a trick," a deep voice disagreed.

Grey and Tamera saw Stirwin appear robed in blue, the wide face too blurry to distinguish features. The entity stood next to them, taller by a head, but nevertheless seeming immaterial.

"Grey, look," Tamera whispered.

At the top of the quad, Grey saw troops marching into the community level cavern. Not the forty troops he had approved for Colonel Kimura from the Commonwealth, but a hundred troops, all heavily armed. He could tell they were not looking for a fight, the postures were too relaxed. Many smiled. They were garrison troops returning from their shift. Grey knew if there were a hundred troops coming off duty, there would be at least two hundred more still at their posts.

"Let's go to the Governor's Quarters," Grey recommended, reaching for Tamera's hand.

Grey took the back route down the maintenance well and approached the administration section from the rear, accessing the unmarked hall that led home. The door was open.

"The computers are in high flux," Grey said, seeing the multicolored signature patterns moving across the largest screen in agitated waves.

"That's not good, is it?" Tamera asked.

"Not in my experience," Grey answered.

"Look at the date, Grey. It's today," Tamera pointed out.

A lone figure sat slumped in the chair before the monitor screen. At first Grey thought he was looking at himself but quickly realized he had made a mistake. It was Roger, and he looked exhausted.

"Defense! Report!" Roger barked, nothing in his manner indicating he knew Grey and Tamera were observing.

"The orbital truce is officially rescinded," the Defense Computer reported. "Northern Alliance authorities have declared a quarantine. And if their terms are not met, destruction of Allied satellites will commence in forty-eight hours."

"The Embargo Wars all over again, and just to win a lousy election," Roger said. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Use the energy cannon," the Life Support Computer recommended. "Within twenty-four hours, we can strike any target on the planet between the Arctic Circle and the Tropic of Capricorn. Once we've neutralized the NA missile bases, no power on the planet will dare oppose us."

"That's too extreme," Roger replied.

"Time is running out, Major Vandebrown," Life Support pressed. "Once the nationalistic prejudices of the world's population have been subordinated, we can begin to organize the planet for defense. Only a coordinated effort will prove successful. Those who oppose us must be eradicated."

"I understand what you're saying, but it's not that easy," Roger worried. "What would Grey have done?"

"We'll never know," Life Support lied. "He abandoned his obligations to this project. Now the alliances vie for position. Seek advantage, if not hegemony. Only Tranquility remains to control events. And if you lack the strength to do what is necessary, we will."

The signature patterns of the computers surged with a vicious, overpowering current indicating the machines were fully prepared to carry out the initiatives on their own. Roger's shoulders drooped in defeat.

"No!" Grey shouted. "Uncle, don't let them get away with it! It's the wrong answer."

"He can't hear you, Grey," Tamera warned. "We're not really here. At least, I don't think so."

"This is nonsense. The world governments know of the Arikhan threat. They wouldn't throw away the only chance they have."

"They might. The world is still shaken by the wars. No one trusts anyone."

"And I make the difference? That's absurd."

"No, it isn't, Grey," Tamera disagreed, pulling him closer. "You've never liked the idea, but you're a symbol. I know you're not some perfect creation of the computers. Hell, everyone who knows you knows it. But people everywhere look at our world and see what we've done to it. We wonder if it could be better. And then we see you, what you've been through, and what you still strive for. It gives us hope things can be better. The blue ghost is right about that."

Grey sat down in the door side locker area. Tamera came to join him, sharing the small bench.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"It appears I've helped a little," Grey confessed. "But what does it prove? I didn't help Glenda. I haven't gotten the alliances to work together. It was my grandfather who warned the world governments of the danger, not me."

"Haven't there been some good things, too?" Tamera asked.

"A few. Tranquility is secure. Kris... Kris is safe, back where she belongs. But the world I grew up in has changed, and it's one I have no place in. I'd rather die than be the figurehead the computers designed me to be."

Tamera wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to believe it, but she couldn't be sure it wasn't true. Then Stirwin appeared before them.

"Your questions are yet unanswered?" the vague blue image questioned. "Have you so little comprehension?"

"Comprehension of what?" Grey asked. "Do you think I don't understand what this charade is all about? Quexitor once quoted Shakespeare to me. Should I assume the great white crystal has never heard of Dickens?"

"Who?" Tamera said.

"Charles Dickens, a writer of the late 19th century. He wrote a story called A Christmas Carol," Grey explained. "Don't you see? Roman showed me the ghost of Christmas past, and now Stirwin shows the ghost of Christmas present. They think showing me these alternate worlds will make a difference, but it doesn't. Now I suppose Quexitor will appear to show me the ghost of Christmas future. Or more accurately, perhaps someone else. Isn't that right, Aunt Kes?"

The locker room disappeared. The monitor room was gone. They were standing in a green pasture on a warm day, a blue sky and drifting clouds above. A herd of goat littered a nearby hillside. Before them, a white robed woman was standing in the damp grass, her chin held high, a bun of gray hair bundled on her head. Just past middle age, the small-boned woman looked at Grey and Tamera with an insightful gaze.

"You never fail to amaze me, son of my beloved sister," Kes greeted.

"The Quexelian would not go to these lengths to teach me a lesson," Grey replied. "Nor have their illusions ever involved such complicated emotions."

"As always, your explanations sound so simple," Kes smiled.

"It's good to see you again, Kes. How are you?" Tamera asked, running forward to give her a hug. To Tamera's surprise, Kes' body had substance, just like real flesh and blood. The embrace was returned with affection.

"I'm lonely, but otherwise fit. Our ship prepares to leave your solar system, so this will be my last awakening from stasis until we reach Quexel."

"Will you be asleep long?" Tamera asked.

"Many years, as you will know them," Kes replied. "Fortunately, my bond with Grey is not yet broken. I could feel your distress and felt a need to intervene one last time."

"Why all the fun and games?" Grey growled.

"Grey! Be nice! Kes is trying to help us," Tamera scolded.

"No one asked her," Grey grumbled.

"Do I need to slap you around? I bet I can in this dimension," Tamera suggested.

Tamera stared at Grey, demanding to be obeyed, her posture posed for a fight. Grey looked into her fierce expression, then laughed.

"I'm sorry," Grey said, smiling weakly as he gave Kes a hug.

"I know you are, my nephew. You have fewer secrets from me than you believe," Kes advised. "Tammy, you must not be too hard on him. His challenges are not such as yours or mine."

"How hard can they be?" Tamera questioned. "He's smarter and braver than anyone. He's only lost a little confidence. Everyone goes through that."

"Child, child," Kes sighed in her most condescending tone. "Grey has lost more than his confidence. He has lost his center. You and I are rooted in family. Raised with loving expectations until we realize our promise. Grey wasn't nurtured in the bosom of his natural culture. He was programmed for a destiny that now seems out of reach. A destiny he may lack the tools to attain. Know that your fears are false, nephew. Know that by accepting one simple challenge, all of your deepest fears will be put to rest."

"What challenge?" Grey asked.

"This you will discover, in time," Kes mysteriously replied.

"I don't see how any challenge can do what you say," Grey protested. "I've beaten odds before. I always beat them."

"Perhaps this challenge is not what you expect?" Kes gently taunted. "Not every challenge requires defeating something. Could that be the lesson you are yet to learn?"

"There's no doubt I have much to learn, but you haven't proven you know the answer. Or that I will ever find it," Grey complained. "What good is an oracle with no answers?"

"Oracles have never provided answers, Grey. Only better questions," Kes explained. "But I see you do not need a question now. You need a motive to continue your journey. Are you prepared to see what might be?"

"The ghost of Christmas future?" Grey asked.

"If you wish," Kes said, waving her hand for dramatic effect.

Once again Tamera and Grey were stranded on a blackened, barren battlefield of torn earth and twisted trees, but this time the effect was more eerie. More final.

"We're back in No-Man's Land again, but I don't think this is 1918," Tamera said, feeling the chill.

"No, I don't think so," Grey agreed.

Off in the distance, they saw the dark outline of a ruined city, the burnt remains of tall buildings standing like skeletons on the skyline. They crossed over a deep, jagged crater in the torn ground and climbed a battered windswept hill. Below them, four large cigar shaped spacecraft surrounded a vast concentration camp.

"Lizards," Tamera said, dropping down behind a fallen log so they wouldn't be seen. Grey knelt down, too, instinctively reaching for a weapon. But he had none, not even the sling.

"Oh, God. Grey, look. Is this our future?" Tamera asked, taking hold of his sleeve.

In the camp, thousands of humans milled about, most naked. Near the largest spaceship, people were being hung upside down by their heels on long racks, their throats slit by Arikhan butchers. There was no malice in the practice. No undo hurry or tension. Simple slaughtering without emotion or mercy.

Dozens of Arikhan guards watched the pens as a hundred others processed the meat. Many of the aliens sat about at leisure, eating or playing games of chance. The human population that was being methodically reduced appeared resigned to their fate.

Suddenly Kes appeared behind Grey and Tamera, startling them both.

"This is one camp of hundreds, Grey. As it has been on so many planets conquered by the Arikhan," she related. "In this future, Tranquility is destroyed. Your armies wiped out. Your nations gone. Only a few thousand survivors have fled to the mountains. You are not among them. Either is Tamera or her babies."

"My babies?" Tamera said, both hands going to her belly.

"Not yet, but soon," Kes revealed. "Do you see, Grey? Do you finally understand? This is the world you allowed. The world that couldn't defend itself when you turned away."

"Grey would never do that. Not in a million years," Tamera protested.

"Is that true, Grey? Then what are we doing here?" Kes inquired.

"This world might exist whether I participate or not. I'm not a god. I'm not even a very good soldier," Grey said, feeling a depth to the reality that felt overwhelming. What he witnessed was immense. Tragic. Inevitable? How could any one person make so great a difference?

"What you say cannot be denied," Kes agreed. "Many worlds have fallen to the Arikhan. Yours might be next despite your best efforts. Life is brief for some. It was brief for my sister, who had such high hopes. And for your father, who had such promise. None who are wise in the ways of the gods would say life is fair. Only you may decide what path you will take, and in this, I wish you happiness and love. And you also, my dear Tamera. Never lose faith."

"Will we ever see you again?" Tamera asked.

"Who can say? Life is full of mystery," Kes replied.

In a bright flash, Kes, the battlefield, and the Arikhan all vanished. Tamera and Grey were alone in the crystal cavern, the lights from the hopper illuminating the crater where they sat.

"Wow, we've been gone sixteen hours!" Tamera said. "Did we really go someplace? Was it all just a dream?"

"I'm not sure," Grey answered, checking his boots for mud.

"Are you hungry?" Tamera asked, getting up to stretch her legs. "I'm hungry, and I've got to pee really bad. How about lunch?"

__________

Two days later, after several big meals and a brief stay at the Crystal Caves Tourist Center, Grey and Tamera traveled to the Space Heroes Monument, setting down on the visitor's landing platform. Dressed in standard walkers, they disembarked to enter the primary airlock. Above them, the memorial tower rose twenty-five meters high, and behind the tower, a huge moonstone arch provided the monument's backdrop.

"I'm glad we came here, Grey," Tamera said, holding his hand as they entered the gallery. "Look! There's Catarina's plaque. And Gregor's."

"And Glenda's. Ted didn't waste any time, did he?" Grey remarked.

"Ted's a good administrator, and he cares. Which you already know or you wouldn't have given him the responsibility."

"I'm glad her name is here. She deserves the honor. They all do," Grey said.

They walked through the central gallery passing nearly two hundred engraved names before entering the rotunda. In niches along the walls were religious symbols representing the beliefs of many faiths. Interactive displays told the stories of the heroes and their noble sacrifices. In the center of the room, a holographic eternal flame kept vigil.

"There it is. Thomas McKinsey's tomb, just as Life Support always envisioned," Grey mentioned, walking up to the marble sarcophagus at the far end of the hall. The antechamber was filled with artifacts and mementos, including McKinsey's Nobel Prize.

"Governor Thomas Sullivan McKinsey. Founder, Tranquility Lunar Colony. First Governor of the Moon. Patriot and visionary," Tamera read from the plaque. "Do you still hate him?"

"Resent him, maybe, but the hate is gone," Grey confessed, though still not sure if it was true. "When I was a child, I thought of him as the Great McKinsey, the most powerful computer system in the world. My world. It was a shock to discover he was a human being. That I would never grow up to be a computer, as I'd always hoped. When I reached adolescence, I realized he could have sent me to Earth after the evacuation. Given me a normal life with a family and friends. Schools and girls. Perhaps I would have developed emotions not based on mathematical calculations. But he needed a successor. He needed someone to carry on his work. His fate was to die with his work half-finished. Mine is to finish it."

Tamera noticed Grey gazing at the tomb with a strange, faraway expression and thought it best to change the subject.

"What's this area over here?" Tamera asked, entering a new wing still under construction.

"It was supposed to be my burial vault," Grey said.

"You're a little young to be thinking about eternity, aren't you?" Tamera asked.

"I won't be needing it. Last winter, when we forced the Quexelians to leave, Stirwin showed me another vision of the future. One with more substance. I will resist the Arikhan when they get here. I think we have a chance of beating them. But my body will never rest in this monument."

"That's how they hurt you, isn't it?" Tamera remembered. "They couldn't scare you or stop you, but somehow they hurt you. What did they say?"

"That we're all mortal. But that doesn't matter now. I understand, and it's okay."

"Are you sure?" Tamera asked.

Grey turned with a smile that Tamera had seen all too rarely, a twinkle in his eyes that had been missing for too long. He drew her close and kissed her on the lips. Not deeply, and not passionately, but with affection.

"Welcome back, Grey. I love you," Tamera whispered, giving him a hug. "Have you solved it?"

"Solved what?"

"The mystery Kes left you. What's the challenge you need to accept?"

"She didn't give me many clues."

"But you know, don't you?"

"Time will tell," Grey guessed.

__________

Ted Davis rushed from the communications center into the upper quad, bypassed the crystal fountain, and made a left turn into the second large corridor just past the tourist shop. A minute later, he reached the community level garrison training center where Colonel Kimura was conducting drill.

"Have you seen Grey?" Ted asked, out of breath from the rapid bouncing.

"Is there an emergency? Intruders?" Kimura questioned, opening the visor on her armor. Behind her, sixteen well-armed soldiers did the same.

"No, nothing like that. I have an important message," Ted replied.

"I know where he is," Michiko offered, emerging from one of the formations. "Permission to leave the floor, Mara?"

"Permission granted," Kimura permitted. "And the rest of you get back to work. Second Squad is due in an hour."

"Follow me," Michiko indicated, stacking her training armor near the door before going out into the corridor. "So, what's the news?

"Roger called. Something about buying a spaceship," Ted answered.

"Grey will like that. He cussed up a storm when that engine mount split the other day," Michiko recalled with a laugh. "He used words I never thought he'd say. Hell, I didn't even know he knew those words."

"That was funny," Ted agreed. "You know, he seems a lot different since that trip with Tammy. Talking with the colonists instead of ducking them. Joining work details. Hanging out at the Lucky Clover until closing. Is it my imagination or has he changed in the last few weeks?"

"It's not your imagination. He's still quiet, but he smiles more. And he's trying to meet new people," Michiko agreed as they branched off the main corridor toward the recreation center. "Between you and me, his social skills still aren't very good, but you've got to admire the effort. Last night he came by to watch a vid with me and Lisa, and Monday he took Johnny up to Lunar Stadium for a game of jumper. Kicked his ass by eight rings."

"Do you think there's anything to those rumors about him and Tammy?" Ted wondered.

"I don't know. They hold hands sometimes, but I don't see any fire in their eyes," Michiko said. "Hey, look! It's Nick!"

Down the corridor just outside the recreation hall, Nicholas was standing with a reports pad in his hand.

"Nick, what are you doing here?" Ted asked.

"Looking for Grey," Nicholas responded. "I have these adjusted figures for the He3 shipment, and we have unpaid invoices for those chickens the Dutch sold us. And the grain from Kansas. The fish from Ireland. Engineering wants to know when to send that new shielding to M.I.S.T., and now I'm told to transmit diagrams for the step-two variable engines even though Administration has the export licenses back listed!"

"Deputy governor starting to get to you, Nick?" Michiko smirked.

"I did not attend engineering school to shuffle budget figures," Nicholas complained. "I was supposed to meet with Grey at 1300 but he never arrived."

"Grey's ignoring administration? Something serious must be going down for that to happen," Ted worried.

Nicholas smiled and opened the door, leading them through a small auditorium to a workshop off the main floor. Inside, twelve people were standing before a holographic projector. The three-dimensional image being projected was the renaissance painter Antony van Dyck fully outfitted in 17th century clothing. To Ted's astonishment, the projection was teaching classical painting! Each student was dressed in a smock and held paintbrushes. Easels held paintings in various stages of completion. Most of the aspiring painters were youngsters, but two were older.

"Grey? Tammy?" Ted blurted out.

Grey and Tamera turned around, their smocks smudged with paint.

"We're almost done for today," Grey said, putting another dab on his moonscape. "Mr. van Dyck was just showing how to mix complex colors on our palate. But Tammy likes to mix it on her nose."

Tamera touched her nose and found a splotch of blue paint.

"You did that! You brat!" Tamera shouted.

"Tammy's going to pose for our Thursday night life drawing class," Grey asserted, stepping back out of her reach.

"I am not! You stop saying that!" Tamera protested.

"I can draw you from memory," Grey smirked.

"You won't!" Tamera declared, chasing him around the easel. But Grey was too nimble, easily staying out of reach. Nicholas laughed.

Ted couldn't believe it. He had known Grey for a year. Seen him angry, resentful, sad, and even pleased on rare occasions, but he had never seen him so playful. Ted glanced at Michiko wondering what had inspired the change. Michiko shrugged.

"You have a private message from Major Vandebrown," Ted informed.

"I've been expecting this," Grey acknowledged, taking off the smock.

"And I still have these export approvals," Nicholas said, waving the reports. "We are behind schedule."

"Work, work, work? Is that all you ever think about?" Grey asked, taking the pad and signing off.

"Someone needs to think about it," Nicholas grouched.

"Nick, the He3 containers won't be ready until Friday, and the base material for the shielding is going down on the same flight, so there's no rush," Grey explained. "Want to meet at Kelly's later? General Larson sent us a preview of this year's Black Sash Tournament. I hear Kris' teams are in contention."

"I will go if we can get Tammy cleaned up in time," Nicholas laughed, seeing his girlfriend's face dabbed in paint.

"We'll see who needs the cleaning," Tamera said, grabbing hold of his shoulders. "I have a new scrubber that will leave your skin pink for a week."

Nicholas picked her up with both hands, having no problem with his balance despite the artificial leg, and gave her a deep kiss. Tamera sighed and kissed him back even stronger before letting him carry her from the room.

This time it was Michiko's turn to give Ted a glance.

"Looks like that rumor's gone down in flames," Michiko hinted.

"Rumor?" Grey said, drawing Michiko and Ted with him into the corridor.

"About you and Tammy being lovers," Michiko said. "People like to gossip."

"Ridiculous humans," Grey laughed. "I would never have an affair with my best friend's fiancée. But if I did, don't you think I've learned enough of your culture to be discreet?"

"What did you do on that trip?" Ted found himself asking. "You've been so different these last few weeks. Almost a different person. Almost... "

"Almost what? Human?" Grey said. "Tamera and I took a journey together. Sometimes I led the way. Sometimes she had to drag me. She's very good at that. But I learned something important, and I've learned that some things are not so important after all. Now I need to apply the lessons."

"The harvest crew meets in the biosphere at 1400 hours. Going to show us how to plant fall wheat?" Michiko asked.

"The moon has no seasons, and we've got to keep working on that new patch if we're going to have pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving," Grey said. "And I want fresh flowers for Winter Holiday. None of those fake ones like we had last year."

"You had to be dragged to Winter Holiday last year," Ted remembered. "Tammy threatened to kick your butt if you kept hiding in the Governor's Quarters."

"You called us ridiculous humans for wasting so much time on decorations," Michiko said.

"This year will be better then, won't it?" Grey suggested.

"Yeah, I think it will," Ted answered.

Grey turned off at the next junction and picked up speed as he entered the administration corridors. A moment later he entered the Governor's Quarters, taking a seat at the primary communications station. It did not take long to establish the private connection he wanted.

"Grey! It's good to see you," Roger said, looking at Grey's image on the vid screen. "You received my message?"

"Affirmative," Grey confirmed, seeing both Roger and Tey on their end of the transmission.

"How are you?" Tey asked.

"You'd know that better than I. Gately confessed she's been sending you my medical reports."

"We were worried. I hope you're not offended," Tey said.

"Once a spy, always a spy," Grey replied.

Roger turned to look at Tey, wondering what Grey meant. For a moment, it looked like Tey wanted to explain, but she simply smiled and let the subject drop.

"What do you think? Can we afford the XL-3?" Roger asked.

"Have we won a lottery lately?" Grey responded.

"We might not need a lottery," Roger suggested. "Not if you're in good shape. How's the recovery? How long will it take you to reach peak physical condition?"

"I don't know," Grey said, mystified by the question.

"Come up with an answer," Roger urged. "The Black Sash games are scheduled for the third week in March, and if you want, I can get you placed for an exhibition. Nothing official, the match won't qualify you for a Black Sash, but it's a chance to demonstrate new tactics and equipment. With the emphasis on off-planet combat techniques, interest couldn't be higher."

"What's the point?" Grey asked.

"Grey, don't you get it?" Roger said. "People bet on these games. They bet big. If you accept a challenge and we downplay your chances of succeeding, we can clean house. Two to one odds, at least. Maybe three."

"You think we can high bid the XL-3 with gambling proceeds?" Grey asked, amazed by the suggestion.

"It won't get us all the way there, but it should be enough for a down payment," Roger replied. "And the publicity will attract all kinds of resources. I think it's our best shot."

"I won't be able to train here. Not in lunar gravity," Grey replied.

"We can arrange facilities for you," Tey offered.

Grey dwelled on the proposal. Tey and Roger could tell that returning to Earth wasn't high on his preference list.

"If you think Starwatcher will be a better ship than the XL-3, we can put our resources there," Roger said.

"The Starwatcher may prove an adequate supply transport someday, but it will never be a warship," Grey admitted.

"Well, what do you think?" Roger pressed. "If the XL-3 doesn't have a serious bidder, they may halt development. Or commit to someone else."

"Is General Larson still in charge of the games?" Grey asked.

"He's the one who extended the invitation," Roger confirmed.

"Okay, arrange the match," Grey agreed. "Standard arena, three seekers, live fire. Go to four seekers if we can't get the odds we need."

"Three seekers!" Tey shouted.

"Grey, I said an exhibition match, not a last stand," Roger protested. "I was thinking more like two on one with variable ground support."

"I can knock two seekers down in my sleep and the smart money knows it," Grey disagreed. "If we're going to do this, let's go for something big. Really big. Rent the Lunar Landing in Ventura, they have a holo-arena that will be good for training. Waters out."

As Grey severed contact, Roger turned to Tey.

"Fuck, I didn't expect that," he worried.

"We should have," Tey said. "Grey's right, a difficult challenge will raise the odds. It's not as if he's afraid of losing."

"Live fire against three seekers? It would scare the shit out of me," Roger said.

_________

The following afternoon, Grey called a meeting of the Governing Council. Tradition dictated that Glenda Blout's seat be left vacant until her post was formally reassigned, but Tamera insisted the seat be occupied so Grey wouldn't feel the loss any more than he already did. Not surprisingly, she asked Colonel Kimura to sit in.

The conference room, renamed the Governing Chamber, seated a dozen people and supplied complete computer access. The room was quiet as Grey entered to sit at the head of the table.

"Thank you for meeting on such short notice," Grey greeted, his voice so soft Nicholas had to ask him to speak up.

"I said thank you for meeting on such short notice," Grey repeated. "And I apologize for not having attended more of your meetings. I want to thank Nicholas and Tamera for carrying the responsibilities of my office. I wish to thank Michiko, Ted, Lisa and Johnston for maintaining Tranquility when I wasn't here to help. And I thank those who are new to this group for your great patience. I should have made an effort to get to know you better, and it's no one's fault but my own that I haven't."

The council chamber was dead quiet. Grey's apology was more sincere than anyone had expected. He sensed the mood and knew it needed to be changed.

"We're on the verge of a new era for Tranquility," Grey announced. "Our space lanes are clear for trade. The Arikhan threat is acknowledged by the world's governments. Preparations are being made. Thanks to Tranquility's orbital web, restrictions on communications are being lifted. Our Defense Computer has tightened tracking, and we've acquired twenty sentinel class seekers for better security. Under the guidance of the Security Computer, I believe this facility is now safe from a surprise attack. The Lunar Republic is on a course of destiny now. One day there will be peace and prosperity, not just for the moon, but for the entire world. You here in this room are a vital part of that destiny."

Most of the council smiled at such praise, but Tamera and Nicholas were more hesitant. There was something detached in Grey's description of the future. Grey noticed their expressions.

"Some of you humans are smarter than you look," Grey said, making an attempt to smile.

"Does that mean you're going to tell us what this is really about?" Michiko asked.

"Yes, it does," Grey confirmed, the smile disappearing. "I must return to Earth for a fund-raising project. I'll be gone until April, and after that, it's difficult to predict what will happen. I've neglected my obligations to this council, and I've neglected my obligations to Tranquility. Now the situation will become even more difficult as I approach broader responsibilities. Under the circumstances, I think it's best to submit my resignation."

"No!" Tamera shouted, jumping out of her chair. She wasn't alone. The whole room erupted in animated objections.

"Governor, we couldn't accept your resignation even if we wanted to," Ted said once the commotion died down. "As far as the world is concerned, you are the Lunar Republic. The alliances negotiate with us because of you. The Northern Alliance granted independence because of you. No one on this committee has your stature."

"Ted is right," Nicholas agreed. "You are not just an administrator, you are an ambassador. A symbol. We will make Tranquility work and continue to ask for help when we need it. You must not resign."

"Governor, though I'm only a guest at this meeting, I must agree with Davis and Koltov," Colonel Kimura intervened. "New trade routes are opening all over the world because of Tranquility, and you represent the stability that makes this possible. A decision like this doesn't just affect the moon, it affects everybody."

"I request a vote of the council," Lisa demanded. "All in favor of accepting the Governor's resignation, raise your hand." No hands were raised. "All in favor of rejecting his resignation, raise your hands."

Every hand was raised. Grey sighed.

"That was not a legal motion, Miss Scott, but I understand your intent," Grey said. "To be truthful, I have no wish to resign. But I don't wish to abuse my position, either."

"We work hard, Grey, and sometimes like to complain," Michiko said. "We're only human, after all. But we live in exciting times, and you're the person who makes them exciting. Wherever you go, whatever you're doing, you'll always be the Governor of the Moon."

"I've heard that one before," Grey said before bursting out in a laugh.

Many in the room were surprised. Several had rarely seen him smile, let alone laugh. There was something about his grin that made them feel special.

"Let's roll up our sleeves, then," Grey directed. "I'd like to outline our projections for the next three quarters, review budget considerations, and work on ways to improve the food situation. There's a lot to do."

__________

"Grey's coming back? When?" Kris asked.

"In a few days, from what I hear," Valerie said. "He's not coming here, though. Not directly. Roger has him scheduled to address a special session of the Euro Parliament in Paris, then the Federated Congress in St. Petersburg, and he may swing through the Far East, too. He's been invited to China. Can you believe it? We haven't had diplomatic relations with the Chinese since the Taiwan Straits incident."

Kris stood up from her patio chair and turned to look out over the ocean, watching the waves rush toward the foot of the cliffs fifteen meters below. Behind her was the M.I.S.T. president's mansion. Farther down the beach was the cottage where she'd lived after retiring from the service at the end of the Grain Wars. And briefly lived with Grey.

"Is he coming back to the NA?" Kris asked. "The government will let him in, won't they?"

"He should be here in February," Valerie said. "He's got meetings scheduled with our engineering department."

"And something's going on with Wes Larson, too. Some kind of secret project," Michael added.

"I feel so left out," Kris complained. "The only messages I've got from Grey are all secondary, and even Roger hasn't called me in more than a week. Tammy says everything's okay, but everyone up there is so busy. No one has time to talk much."

"You've been busy, too, dear," Valerie pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. I even missed the time Grey called because I was in drill. Things will settle down, though. Once the kids have the training regime, we'll just be focusing on the games."

"Is one of your teams going to win?" Valerie asked.

"Of course! We're going to kick ass this year!" Kris declared.

Valerie and Michael smiled.

"Hope you won't mind if I root for Air Force?" Michael asked.

"Wanna make it interesting?" Kris challenged. "I've got a hundred credits that says Navy stays in the games longer than your fly boys."

"My life as a Valerie Fairfield accessory piece is boring. Let's make it two hundred credits," Michael said.

"Boring?" Valerie protested. "We've been on the campaign trail non-stop for four months! London, New York, Havana, Quebec, San Francisco! You even made us stop in Tombstone to see the OK Corral. And every place we go, they want those stupid autographed footballs of yours! Don't you dare say life is boring."

"I thought you'd get mad about the accessory piece part," Mike said.

"Can't. That part is true," Valerie confirmed.

* * * * * *

Three chapters and an epilogue to go.