Chapter 24: The Battered Earth — Part 3

“I’ll need two names, or didn’t you hear me mention that before?” Susan’s smile broadened, her face seeming split by the power of her expression.

“You mean you’re going to have twins?” Laura carefully concealed her worry, but Susan, having known her too long, caught it.

“Yes. It surprised me too.” Susan admitted.

In all the centuries she had lived on Antans, no single loving couple had given birth to twins, and yet she, who had lost all her bloodline, had been so fortunate. Laura pulled her into a tight hug, genuinely worried.

“I already know that there will be complications during delivery, and have made arrangements, as best as I can. So don’t worry, okay?” Susan held her for a long moment. “I’ll tough it out just fine, you’ll see.”

“I sure hope so.” Though Laura had her doubts, though she smiled just the same.

Jonathan adjusted his sensory view of Earth’s surface, part of him wishing he were still back home. What little remained of Earth’s natural forests lay in small isolated spots around the world. The bombsites had been visible when he first arrived, but now the fires had died down, and only craters remained. The cities were little more than shattered metal skeletons: The spaces between them crippled ecosystems struggling to restore themselves. Though the sky dropped rain more or less sporadically, the rain was often poisonous or radioactive, and just as often fell on land that lacked the life to use it.

On and under the surface, the fractured remains of the Cynosure’s enforcing governmental parties had broken into feudal governments, the strongest people surviving in positions of authority, the weakest serving them in exchange for the right to live another day. The old class systems worked to the advantage of new kings and emperors, bullies rising in power from the ashes of the shattered system. Weapons like guns and blasters were becoming a scarcity, while swords, spears, and makeshift weapons were rapidly gaining favor among the survivors. From the wreckage of the past, the tools of the future were being forged. Children were rarely being conceived, and when they were, few of them were born healthy or alive. Seva for one, was angry with her duty as a Scout. A creature of action, she considered reconnaissance an act for cowards and sociopaths.

“I hate this. How are we supposed to help them if we’re only supposed to observe their progress into oblivion?” Seva paced back and forth angrily.

Jonathan slammed his fist against his sensory console. “Nothing will help those people except time. All we can do is hope and pray that Earth takes pity on them.”

“We have our own troubles coming up.” Charles said, being the only person aboard to keep his eyes on the sensors pointed out into space.

“What kind?” Seva asked. “Are we going to have to go down to the surface?”

“We’ve got ships approaching. Combat craft, four of them. They could be Pirates — or they could be Cynosure, or Grison’s troops.” Charles said.

Having listened in on countless interstellar broadcasts, Charles had quickly learned about the various potential hazards to the Kindred, and had broken them into categories based on political allegiance. The Kindred had been fully rebuilt from the mainframe out since its last departure. Currently it could do some serious damage, but four ships with the right technology could still take her down. Its new design was less boxy, more maneuverable, both in atmosphere and deep space. It looked more like a sparrow genetically redesigned to fight than a space ship made to stand against the ravages of travel. The designs were a direct result of the repairs done to Shadow’s ship. Her ship had revolutionized the architecture of ship making for the Antansi. In exchange, Shadow had received technological advances to her engines and defenses that would give her a true edge during hostile encounters. Charles brought the Kindred’s nose around to face the approaching craft, hoping for a peaceful first contact.

“Open communications.” Charles said.

“Unidentified craft, this is Captain Vertigo of the Kindred. You’ve entered quarantined space, please leave for safe port in another system.”