The transorbital lander Keene was on descended nose-up, pancake-braking against the atmosphere, and then came around to full-vertical for the final phase of its descent to slide tailfirst toward the opened docking silo. The metal constructions below rose up to take on shape and form with lines of windows and reflected highlights, and then were lost as the ship entered a different world of service gantries and tiers of brightly lit access levels. The half-shells of the covering lid rolled shut overhead, and while the bay was cycling to fill with heated, breathable air, the passengers exited through an access tube at the transorbital’s forward door, moving with the peculiar loping gait that quickly became second nature as the most efficient way of moving in reduced gravity. Keene’s single carryall was tagged for forwarding to his accommodation address, and he was carrying just a light overjacket slung over his arm, and a portasec briefcase. As he had half expected, Shayle was among the people waiting to meet the arrivals. Small, personal things like that were important among Kronians—even when his destination was only a ten-minute tube ride away. Keene acknowledged her with a grin, exchanged farewells with his traveling companions, and made his way over.
Shayle was characteristically tall but sturdily built for a Kronian, with the buxom fullness and pink-hued, freckly complexion that Keene was accustomed to associating with farmhouse diets and lots of fresh air. Her red hair was loosely braided to below her shoulders, and she was wearing a skirt with a green, hip-length jacket adorned by a tree pattern in brown and tan—reminiscences of an Earth she had never known.
“Hi,” Keene greeted. He showed his hands. “The VIP treatment? Or has everyone missed me that much?”
“We just like a friendly face to be the first thing you come back to.”
“So how have things been?”
“We’ve been managing. Pang’s waiting for you.” Shayle turned, and they began walking in the direction of the elevators that would take them down to the transit-tubes.
“How about Jan— What’s his name again? Jan . . .”
“Jansinick.”
“Right. Was he there yet, when you left?”
“No, but I called Pang a few minutes before you came off the ship, and he’d just arrived. I don’t think Pang wants to go into things too much until you get there. He said he’d just told Jan that he was sure he’d find our work attractive.”
“Attractive,” Keened repeated, and groaned.
Shayle’s tone became more serious. “How was it up there?” she asked.
“More of an education than I expected. It makes traffic control look like a rest home. The Security Arm’s training base got hit pretty badly a couple of days ago. They lost a lot of people there.”
“Yes, I know. They’re talking about abandoning Rhea and setting up a new base here on Titan instead.”
“There’s no point in rebuilding it out there,” Keene agreed.
The boarding area was awash with color from flowering plants in tubs and hanging planters—again, all part of the Kronian dedication to preserving everything they could of Earth. Keene had never learned much about plants and their names. Sometimes, talking with Kronians, he felt as if he should have known more. “It feels like walking out into a palace after a week of being cooped up in a LORIN station,” he commented to lighten the mood. “Did you ever see pictures of the insides of old submarines?”
“I’d have thought all this would be almost as bad for someone who lived their whole life on Earth.”
“I guess we’re just an adaptive animal.”
They joined a knot of people waiting at the elevator doors. “Oceans and mountains,” Shayle went on. “Open sky from horizon to horizon. I can’t imagine such things. You must miss it a lot.”
Keene shrugged in a way he had learned to make nonchalant. “Life here is so busy that I don’t get much time to think about it. When I do, I’m usually too tired to think.” A downgoing car arrived. Keene and Shayle got in with the others.
“How’s everything otherwise?” Keene asked as the doors closed.
“Pretty smooth. Nyica has upgraded the V-mode simulation. Gordon’s installing the bleed diverters on the rig.”