\n
Liwei was halfway across the big central panes of the crop module when a soft beep sounded in his ear and a warning light flashed across his helmet display, crimson dawn blurring out the endless backdrop of stars.\n<\/p>\n
\nFlat against the impregnable glass with his guide lines radiating from his suit, an outlandish and fragile spider traversing a bubble suspended in nothingness, he let training take over, freezing all movement. Blinked his suit gauges into the hud. His oxygen supply was low, and falling fast. Too fast to complete the walk as planned.\n<\/p>\n
\nSomehow he must have sustained a puncture that his suit\u2019s SmartSkin sensors had failed to pick up. A minor incident, easily stitched up with a sealant gun or a tube of hardcaulk, if only he\u2019d detected it inside. Out here, with nothing but the thin scrim of atmosphere the suit contained, it could spell serious trouble. A death sentence, if he allowed his mind to drift that way and panic to take over. So he didn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n
\nInstead, his free arm sought the tension of the tether holding him clipped to the agrifuge struts. Found nothing but slack. Liwei turned to the side, saw the other end of the line drifting away from the clip, unsecured. Tiny as the leak had to be, it was spinning him head over heels, propelling him into a slow, irretrievable tumble away from the glass, into the vacuum.\n<\/p>\n
\nLetting himself roll into the spin always felt like suicide in training, but Liwei was an experienced spacewalker, had learned to override planetside-evolved instincts to preserve himself in space, where different rules applied. Death beckoned from the void, cold stars scintillating across an unimaginable gulf. Below him, then above him, the lights of the agrifuge shimmered, the artificial fields underlit by ultraviolet tubes, a swaying, rolling sea of green.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei\u2019s fingers found the safer controls, thumbed off the catches. He adjusted for the jet from the ruptured tank, which was pushing him sideways as well as away from the glass. One chance was all he would get. He waited for the spokes to roll into his viewfinder, for the hub to align between them, and fired the thrusters.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe airlock seemed tiny at this distance, his positioning graphics skewing wildly like they always did before the guiding program locked in. Liwei kept his breathing steady, his eyes on the vector: inside his gloves, his palms were steady and dry. If he missed the airlock, or overshot the station\u2019s central module, he might have enough fuel to decelerate and make another pass. Xiao, the chief engineer, might have just enough time to pull on a suit and attempt to retrieve him. A trapeze act, like the ones he\u2019d watched in the circus as a child, no less lethal for the absence of gravity. The station\u2019s emergency manuals laid out the steps for a rescue protocol, but to Liwei\u2019s knowledge one had never been attempted before.\n<\/p>\n
\nAll this passed through his head as the central module of J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V surged in his visor, fist-sized at first, then growing to immense proportions, its pitted exterior lined with observation ports and extensions and maintenance walkways. He had time to register his angle of approach, the panicked voice jabbering in the suit\u2019s audio feed, before his brain dredged up a warning: he was coming in too fast, the airlock yawning open like a great mouth, intent on swallowing him.\n<\/p>\n
\nGalvanized beyond fear, Liwei shot his palm thrusters into reverse, sending a silent prayer into the eternal night. It went against his ideological conditioning, would go on his record if he\u2019d spoken it loud enough for the suit to pick up, but he was well past caring. He felt the jolt of deceleration, felt his hands clench on the controls, fingers aching with effort. The horizon tilted, the vast edifice falling toward him slowed down. But the correction had thrown him off vector \u2013 a slight miscalculation, yet enough for the airlock door to dip under his feet.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei whipped round and made a grab for a handrail, missed. Slammed into the wall and bounced, sending a burst of unintelligible alerts across his hud. Flailed around for a loose cable, a projection, anything to slow his agonizing slide over the edge of the station.\n<\/p>\n
\nThis was how you died in space, the lessons warned. There were hundreds of ways, but in most cases it started off as a small thing, innocuous at first, leading to another, and then the primate brain kicked in, reflexes acquired in an environment where up and down mattered, and you were truly lost. Blowouts and system failures were anticipated by the designers, with failsafes and multiple redundancies built in to mitigate the risk. A snapped line, or a moment\u2019s inattention, killed with remorseless certainty.\n<\/p>\n
\nSomehow he arrested his momentum, worked the thrusters with gentle taps, tiny jets nudging him backward, until his gloved fist closed around the airlock rail, pulled him inside.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei lay on the floor, fighting the urge to throw up, as air pressure thrummed into the lock. He tore off his helmet, but could not get his shaking legs to hold him up, even in microgravity. The numbers on his suit gauges danced wildly in his vision. His oxygen gauge had maybe five minutes left. It was just his imagination, but he thought he could feel the sucking of the vacuum just outside the door, seeking a way in. Determined to get him next time.\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\n\u201cClose call,\u201d Xiao said, stabbing the keyboard as if intent on punishing it for some unknowable crime. \u201cEven if you hadn\u2019t screwed up the return trajectory like a snotnose who\u2019d just pissed his pants, the lack of air would have gotten you. There wasn\u2019t anywhere near enough for a second try, even if you were really good at holding your breath. Which you\u2019re not.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei shook his head, fingering the outer shell of his spacesuit. The hole in the oxygen tank was barely noticeable, a tiny pinprick in the metal. \u201cAny bigger,\u201d he said, \u201cand it would\u2019ve blown me clean off. I\u2019d have blacked out before I could react.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou got lucky.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOr someone else got unlucky,\u201d Liwei said, raising his gaze to meet his friend\u2019s. Xiao seemed to be about to argue, then simply shook his head.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt was no accident,\u201d Liwei pressed on. \u201cBoth the suit leak and the safety line went at the same time. Not to mention the situation with the crop module. We\u2019re being sabotaged.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cCareful how you phrase that.\u201d Xiao sighed, pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. Few of the crew aboard J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V bothered with personal grooming anymore. With the water shortages, personal hygiene had been the next to go. \u201cThe system has logged your walk as unscheduled maintenance. Elevating it to a security concern will require evidence.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not like anyone cares.\u201d The leak could have been caused by a micrometeoroid hit, Liwei thought. One of those supposedly one-in-ten-trillion accidents that happened with disturbing frequency. Or a nanoexplosive device, expertly placed, untraceable. \u201cHave you checked the logs? Surveillance should show who had access to the equipment before my walk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo good,\u201d Xiao said. \u201cRemember the all-hands evacuation drill we had earlier this week? If this was deliberate sabotage, anyone on the station could have done it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei snorted with disgust, tossed his glove at the wall. It slowed down as soon as it left his hand, tapped the bulkhead, then began to float downward until the chief engineer grabbed it with a reproachful look.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThere\u2019s more,\u201d he said, clipping the glove to Liwei\u2019s suit. \u201cDao wants to see us. As soon as you\u2019re back from the walk. He didn\u2019t kick up a fuss, and you know he hates being kept waiting. So it must be something big.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cJust when I thought nothing worse could happen today,\u201d Liwei said, rolling his eyes. \u201cMaybe I should have floated away. Let myself go. At least then I wouldn\u2019t have to sit through another one of Chairman Dao\u2019s enlightening speeches.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI can tell him you\u2019ve been sent to the medbay for observation. You almost died out there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei bounced to his feet, bobbed up and down in microgravity, like a boxer loosening up. \u201cThen I\u2019m just delaying the inevitable. Better to take all my medicine at once. Besides, it\u2019s inspiring to hear about taking a triumphant step for the Motherland, carrying the Great Revolution into space. Sweeping away the demons and ghosts of primitive man\u2019s superstition out here at the Ultimate Frontier.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou know he can probably hear you,\u201d Xiao said, but he was already laughing. He bounded down the agrifuge tunnel, limber like a dancer. \u201cDao\u2019s ass is on the line too, don\u2019t forget. Every yield below quota is a black mark on his record.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIf he had a record worth keeping clean, they wouldn\u2019t have sent him here in the first place.\u201d Liwei followed his friend down the tunnel, glad to feel the pull of his own weight again, no matter how subtle. \u201cWith cadres like Dao spearheading our Leap to the Stars, it\u2019s a miracle we haven\u2019t crashed back down already.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nLiwei sat in front of a bank of green-tinted monitors, under an array of faded red banners proclaiming the glory of the Revolution and ideological slogans. Holographic portraits of Paramount Leaders long dead and embalmed flickered on the opposite wall, glowering at him with mild distaste. Furnished to resemble the office of an up-and-coming Cadre back on Earth, the cabin had fallen into gentle disrepair two political officers ago, and the chief engineer \u2013 Xiao\u2019s predecessor \u2013 had quietly and unofficially designated the space a repository of old communications equipment. Over time the clutter had become part of the decor, and the incoming political officer had been none the wiser.\n<\/p>\n
\nLike the portraits, the face of Political Officer Dao Junfeng also flickered and twitched. Its skin was sallow and bore a wreath of red around the eyes and temples where tiny capillaries had burst. A history of bad diet and bloating in low-grav and the occasional vacuum decompression was written into those scarlet blotches. Dao was a veteran of the Three Heavens Space Program, probably a peasant Cadre from the Republic\u2019s interior, who had bought into the Party line of BUILDING A BRIDGEHEAD TO THE STARS, or latched onto it as a way out of the endless dustbowls, away from the ration cards and water allotments, seduced by the siren call of the orbital colonies.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei couldn\u2019t blame Dao: he\u2019d followed a similar part himself out of the monstrous shipyards of Tianjin-Nanjing, where fire roared and smoke belched every minute of every day, where vast lodging domes covered every inch of the bleak, lead-colored sky. Despite Dao\u2019s pigheadedness and petty tyranny, Liwei almost felt sympathy for the Cadre. A good maintenance tech could always find a berth, but political officers were a dime a dozen. When his term on J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V was up, Dao would end up tormenting workers in an industrial zone somewhere on the frozen northern border, or, if he was really unlucky, holding a midlevel administrative post in the Vale Marineris colony. A quick death from a pressure blowout seemed vastly preferable.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat happened on your walk?\u201d Dao asked. He tried to look stern, but his face, puffed up from extra fluid, could not quite retain the expression. \u201cChief Engineer, I hope your report is already filed. The Standing Committee will not tolerate further failures.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nJust like that, Liwei felt his sympathy evaporate into the vacuum. \u201cWith permission, Comrade,\u201d he said. \u201cI executed an authorized extravehicular activity to investigate unanticipated water losses from the agrifuge ring. There was an equipment failure. My oxygen tank became damaged, as did my safety tether. I established control and engaged my safer propulsion unit to return to the hub. Chief Engineer Jia performed a comprehensive review of the protocol.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWe were fortunate.\u201d Dao\u2019s tone indicated the opposite. \u201cA double equipment failure is unacceptable. Do we know what happened?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao fidgeted his hands. \u201cComrade Political Officer, I have analyzed the situation from several angles. There is no indication that the oxygen unit was defective. It passed the last testing exercise without remark. Likewise, all tethers were found to be in working order. I believe we can rule out accidental damage and malfunction.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou would say that, wouldn\u2019t you, Chief Engineer?\u201d Dao\u2019s eyes gleamed with malice. \u201cNeglect and inattention, Comrades. We have had more than our fair share of that on this station, and I do not intend to tolerate any more. Neglect and inattention cost lives and production units. Tomorrow I\u2019ll speak to the crew-\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIf it pleases you, Comrade,\u201d Xiao cut in, his face darkening. \u201cI invite you to review the maintenance logs yourself. Every piece of equipment undergoes careful testing. We should look elsewhere for the cause of the failure.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSabotage,\u201d Liwei said, relishing the expression of sheer terror that quivered on Dao\u2019s round face. \u201cChief Engineer Jia and I have gone over the sequence of events, and it is the only explanation that fits. First one of the water cyclers in the crop tube. Then the temperature gauges in Segment Four. This is the third irrigation leak we\u2019ve had to patch up in as many months.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nDao waved his words away, flustered. \u201cNonsense, Master Technician. Defeatist nonsense. This is open space. Equipment fails. Micrometeoroids-\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cStatistically, it\u2019s an impossibility,\u201d Xiao said. \u201cAgrifuges are built to last centuries. All essential systems are shielded.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe political officer rubbed the bridge of his nose, groped in vain for the long-banished cigarettes in his breast pocket. \u201cBut what would be the saboteur\u2019s goal? If someone wanted to cripple or destroy J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V, they wouldn\u2019t bother poking holes in irrigation pipes. They would damage our solar arrays, or disable the tokamaks, or start a fire in the crop tunnels. They would cut your throats while you slept.\u201d The thought seemed to cheer him up, for he flashed a weak smile. \u201cWe must not give in to wild theories. Broken tethers seem like a very inefficient way to get rid of people.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao and Liwei exchanged helpless glances. \u201cI don\u2019t think they wanted to kill me,\u201d Liwei said, unsure of his own reasoning. As loath as he was to admit it, Dao had a point. \u201cIt felt more like a message. A warning.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nDao shook his head vehemently. \u201cYou listen to me, Comrades, and you better listen carefully. I will not tolerate subversive rumors on my station. Where there is sabotage, swift and decisive action is required. Where no such action is possible, morale suffers. The workers\u2019 commitment to the Five Shining Ideals is brought into question. Where workers\u2019 commitment is brought into question, the political officer\u2019s future becomes doubtful. Are you following so far?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nBoth men nodded, their eyes fixed on the floor. Satisfied, the political officer fiddled with his databracer, flicked a set of images and numbers onto the cabin\u2019s main screen. The feed showed the interior of the agrifuge\u2019s farming tunnels \u2013 entire quadrants of soybeans and vegetables yellowed and sagging, fallen leaves swirling around the air ducts, crop-tending robots puttering through dry dirt, raising clouds of dust. It reminded Liwei of the blasted drought-stricken landscapes of the Inner Republic: all that was missing were scrawny villagers lining up in front of famine relief banks.\n<\/p>\n
\nDao caught the look on Liwei\u2019s face and nodded. \u201cThis, Comrades,\u201d he said portentously. \u201cThis is the crisis we should be worried about. Eleven per cent decrease in yield between harvests. We have the men on one bath per week. Barely enough to stave off dehydration. Yet we keep losing water.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe swiped across the screen, accelerating the process by a week, a month, a year. Withered stalks hung from the substrate pods like bunches of straw. The green ring of the agrifuge turned a dun brown, opaque with dirt. J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V became a dead star spinning in the sterile black vacuum.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThis is a disaster.\u201d Liwei knew he should hold his tongue, but the words came anyway. \u201cComrade, we need to alert the Standing Committee immediately. Request assistance. New parts for the hydrocyclers, a resupply of water. Otherwise we\u2019ll be forced to shut down.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHow would you like me to phrase that request, Master Technician?\u201d Malice gleamed in the political officer\u2019s eyes. \u201cAsk for emergency supplies to cover up our own waste and abuse, while our comrades on other stations go without? Commission an official inquiry into a drainage problem? The only demotion would be a recall and a punitive assignment to some backwater. For all three of us, in case I need to remind you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe was in his element now, hands clasped behind his back, packing the cramped cabin with as much officious rectitude as low-grav would allow.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe truth, Comrades,\u201d he said, squaring his shoulders, \u201cthe truth is that our space program is on its last legs. The Politburo has declared it dead, and we know that the Politburo makes no mistakes. Ours is the last standing government on the planet not bought by the transnationals. The last remaining superpower in a world that does not need superpowers anymore. Our Paramount Leader speaks of a Third Great Revolution.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe paused for effect, evidently satisfied by the stricken faces of the other two men. \u201cThe decaying and immoral corporations have no interest in space. Being up here costs money. There is no short-term return on investment. Mars is a fever dream whose fever has already broken, and the lunar settlements are an expensive disappointment. Instead of fueling our Second Great Leap to the stars, the agrifuge program is barely staving off starvation back on Earth. Our food elevators, the enormous triumph of our spirit and industry, have become a lifeline, not the launching pad they were envisioned as.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSo much for not being defeatist,\u201d Liwei said. Xiao elbowed him sharply in the ribs. But Dao was on a roll: he nodded absently, as if the master technician had expressed agreement.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSpace has turned into the graveyard of human ambition.\u201d He spoke this sententious phrase with the air of a prophet, frowning at no one in particular. The J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n project is just another tombstone. Before the year is out, this station will be put out of commission. The crew will be heading back where they came from, looking for new jobs.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nDao seemed to catch himself, hurried to explain. \u201cNaturally, dedicated comrades and distinguished workers such as yourselves have nothing to fear. Especially those who have forfeited their ability to return to Earth. With the appropriate recommendation in the right Uncle\u2019s ear, a promotion may even be wrought out of the whole sorry ordeal. A permanent posting to a colony of your choice. Provided, of course, that certain terms are agreed upon.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei felt his breath seize for a moment, the cabin reeling around him. \u201cWhat terms would be required?\u201d he said slowly, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cE-eh.\u201d Dao raised his hands defensively, but a sly look had crept across his crude features. \u201cDon\u2019t put words into my mouth, Comrade. All I\u2019m saying is that quotas are arbitrary things, set by faceless bureaucrats with nothing better to do than harass hard-working members of the proletariat. If these same bureaucrats are planning to decommission us, if they expect the harvests to keep failing, it won\u2019t look suspicious if they fail by a slightly larger margin. Output numbers are easily adjusted. Who\u2019s to say if we\u2019re ten tons behind quota, or fifteen? It\u2019s a matter of small corrections to the harvest logs. Corrections a political officer is authorized to make.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSuch a political officer,\u201d Xiao said skeptically, leaning against a bulkhead, \u201cwould risk the highest sanction down on Earth. As would anyone caught helping him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNot so,\u201d Dao said, shaken but unbowed by the words. His eyes shone feverishly, almost with desperation. \u201cThe records will be destroyed anyway. The station will be stripped down, and the hull brought down in a controlled crash. Even if someone tries to reconcile the figures, there will be nothing to reconcile against.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei studied the political officer. What Dao was proposing was a guaranteed death penalty, if they were caught. But to Liwei, returning to Earth would equally spell death, painful and lingering. He had exceeded his safe stay in space: his native world was no longer home. It would crush his fragile bones in the titanic embrace of its gravity, squeeze his blood vessels until they burst. Treatment could slow the symptoms down, but it would not cure him, even if he had the means to pay for it. The Republic would euthanize him and put up his hologram in some dusty, forgotten museum. Hero of the Third Revolution. Better a quick death by needle, or by firing squad.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat\u2019s our role in this?\u201d Xiao asked, crossing his arms over his chest.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cKeep the \u2018fuge running,\u201d Dao said, a touch too eagerly. \u201cSlow down the losses. The books will show one set of numbers, the bills of lading another. A small discrepancy. Noticeable, but explainable.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWho would buy this discrepancy?\u201d Liwei said.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWho wouldn\u2019t?\u201d Dao scoffed, spread his arms. \u201cThere are two billion starving mouths outside of our borders. Fears of another nuclear exchange are driving prices higher than ever. Our old foes in the West have crumbled into the dirt. Their corporations have made things even worse. They will pay whatever they\u2019re asked to pay to stave off their day of reckoning.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat about the split?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cTo be negotiated,\u201d Dao said defensively. \u201cA split commensurate with the risk being undertaken would be the most appropriate, of course. After intermediary costs have been deducted. We need to grease the wheels so they don\u2019t squeak. Otherwise it\u2019s payment on delivery. Special drawing rights to a numbered account with a biometric code. Or corporate scrip of the recipient\u2019s choice, at interorbital exchange rates.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei did a quick calculation in his head. It wouldn\u2019t be a fortune, even with food prices soaring. But it would be plenty to retire on. If they could keep the agrifuge spinning and the lights on. If they could root out the hidden conspirators among the crew. \u201cWhat\u2019s the prognosis?\u201d he heard himself say. \u201cHow long do we have to pull it off?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cPull what off?\u201d Dao smirked. \u201cRemember, Comrades, we are simply discussing a theory. But ten months would be a reasonable expectation. Perhaps another two or three, if a competent case is made before the Standing Committee.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao and Liwei said nothing. The chief engineer\u2019s face was expressionless, but Liwei saw that his knuckles were white, his nails leaving red crescents in the meat of his palms.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnyway.\u201d Dao clapped his hands once, dismissing them. \u201cIt would be best to keep this between us. Find those leaks. Keep those crops growing. We all have our own part to play in the Revolution. So make sure there are no more accidents. Or, if there are, that they\u2019re happening to the right people. Eh? We don\u2019t need that sort of attention now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nThe glass wall of the outer ring crackled and popped as the station swung out of the Earth\u2019s shadow, into the relentless brilliance of the sun.\n<\/p>\n
\nJ\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V was an older-model agrifuge, a vast wheel spinning noiselessly around its central axis to provide crucial artificial gravity for the root systems in its substrate pods. Built over almost three decades, it was pieced together from mismatched odds and ends, with features ranging from a synesthetic arcade to a missile defense system from the Deterrence Era. The hundred-odd crew slept in the hub, around which wound the transparent loops of the farming tubes. Eight tunnel spokes stretched between them, some hosting service robots and remote-controlled machinery, others crammed full of outdated and incompatible gear. At the slightest change in temperature, the passages creaked ominously, vibrating with the hiss of eroded rubber seals. To Liwei, it looked like they held together with repurposed parts, spit and a prayer.\n<\/p>\n
\nSuspended from a gantryway, hovering above the pods, he watched the sunlight spread across the greenery, the permaglass sparkling with millions of dazzling diamonds. A fragrant breeze whispered in the leaves, the movement of air created by the station\u2019s oxygen cyclers and the warming, expanding front inside the sunlit tube. Clean wind in his face, the smell of growing vegetation: something he\u2019d never experienced down on Earth, but got to enjoy every day at the station. The same humanity that had destroyed the atmosphere and biosphere of its home world had created the impossible here, the miracle of life in the dead bleakness of space. The meaningless irony of it all never failed to move him.\n<\/p>\n
\nMinutes later, he was upside down between the irrigation pipes, shining a laser pointer through the main ducts, trying to locate the new leak. Probably a tiny hole somewhere in this section: finding it would be a sisyphean task, a search for the proverbial needle in a haystack. A service robot could have run the diagnostics faster and with greater precision. But Liwei craved solitude, and wanted to work through the unsettled feeling that had taken root in his mind. The notion of a shadow poised over him, some unseen but impending catastrophe. If he turned his attention to a repetitive, monotonous task, if he let his subconscious chip away at the big question in the background while his higher functions were engaged, he knew he could get to the bottom of it.\n<\/p>\n
\nSmall acts of sabotage, things going wrong here and there, nothing that could not be explained away by coincidence. Only the day before, there had been an air cycler failure in one of the uninhabited residential modules. It had been resolved quickly and with minimal damage, but now the crew were on edge, overreacting to the smallest incidents. In the extremes of his suspicion, Liwei had tried to imagine that the crisis had somehow been manufactured by Dao himself, a desperate ploy for a much-needed rehaul of the station, or to deflect blame for the harvest failures. But no matter how hard he tried, the pieces stubbornly refused to fall into place.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei heard the sliding of rings along the topmost guiderail before a shadow blotted out the light. Xiao hung above him, shielding his eyes to peer down. He offered a weak smile, looking almost contrite, as if caught doing something he shouldn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThought I\u2019d find you here,\u201d he said, and Liwei heard the off-key note in his voice. \u201cDoing Chairman Dao\u2019s bidding, I see. Not a grain of rice wasted, if it can be smuggled out for an illegal profit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDao can go to hell,\u201d Liwei said, surprised by the intensity of his own anger. \u201cMy job is to keep this place running. That\u2019s exactly what I intend to do. Dao or no Dao.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI take it you haven\u2019t been thinking about his offer, then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei bit his tongue. Thirty feet below him, two figures in green worksuits \u2013 the station\u2019s resident agrobiologists \u2013 were inspecting the crop plants, taking substrate samples. They paused at a brown, withered patch, their arms waving in discussion, or argument. He waited until they moved out of earshot, let out a breath he had not been aware of holding.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cA man like Dao does not make offers,\u201d he said. \u201cTelling us was part of his plan. Now we know what\u2019s going to happen, and are expected to go along with it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOr else what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOr else he\u2019ll make sure we can\u2019t get in his way.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe red dot of the laser pointer danced behind the pipe. Liwei pulled himself closer, applied the sealant gun to the hole. Logged the location in his databracer.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI\u2019ve seen this happen before,\u201d he said, craning his neck to look up at Xiao. All he could see was the empty rail, a hint of movement at the edge of his vision. \u201cA government project on its last legs. All the rats start making their moves. Space swallows everything. Records disappear. People, too, if they\u2019re unlucky.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDo you feel unlucky?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei started. The chief engineer was right above him, the sunlit backdrop reducing his face to a dark oval. A heavy wrench hung from his hand, held loosely, almost nonchalantly. The knowledge of his own helplessness suddenly struck Liwei \u2013 flat on his back, at the other man\u2019s mercy. He imagined the tool swinging, the dull crunch of impact, the long fall down the tube. Even in low-grav, the damage would be enough to conceal the killing blow.\n<\/p>\n
\nNo reason to think that. Still, his muscles clenched, his skin crawled with unwelcome anticipation.\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao followed his gaze, stared at the wrench in his hand, as if unsure how it had gotten there. Finally he clipped it to his belt, looking embarrassed. An awkward moment of silence passed.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSo where do we go from here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei righted himself up, trying not to read a double meaning into the question. \u201cThere\u2019s no one we can take this to,\u201d he said. \u201cThe Standing Committee won\u2019t care, even if we could get the message through to them. The foreign transnats won\u2019t risk antagonizing our government. Dao is right. Space is no longer a frontier, but a big, cold graveyard.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt wasn\u2019t always like that,\u201d Xiao said, sounding wistful. \u201cThere was a time when we dreamed bigger. Do you remember? We were the first nation on Mars. The first to establish a lunar mining colony. Europa by the end of the century \u2013 a symbolic conquest on the bicentennial of the Revolution. Now it\u2019s back down the gravity well. Back to the nest we beshitted trying to soar to the stars. Back to the dirt.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei slid a little further down the rail, telling himself he wasn\u2019t doing it to stay beyond the reach of the wrench. \u201cIt\u2019s different for you,\u201d he said, fighting an uprush of bitterness. \u201cYou have something to go back to. You can go back. I\u2019ve stayed offworld too long.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe therapy-\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe therapy doesn\u2019t help. Not that I have the money for it. This is my home now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei realized that he was staring at the foliage below. It\u2019s not just the physical change, he thought. Could I leave this place in my head, my heart? Do I want to?\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao seemed to struggle with some terrible inner storm. \u201cPerhaps there is a way,\u201d he blurted out, not meeting Liwei\u2019s eyes. \u201cIf someone stayed behind after the evacuation. Tried to make it habitable. There are several million tons of space junk floating between the Earth and our Lagrange point. Old satellites, weather platforms, obsolete government installations.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cStay here?\u201d Liwei frowned. \u201cThat\u2019s not possible. Systems decay. Entropy sets in. Without spare parts, without a working reactor, it would be-\u201d It would be a coffin, he wanted to say, floating among the stars. But was that really so terrible, considering the alternatives?\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao was right. There had been a time when the world had dared to dream big. Liwei had dreamed, once. Down planetside, in the smoke and noise of the machinery, staring up at the sliver of poisonous sky, the distant gleam of stars. Was it possible that the dream was over, before it had properly begun?\n<\/p>\n
\nThe chief engineer gave an embarrassed shrug. He kicked off the wall and floated away on the rail, two fingers touched to his temple in mock salute. \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d he said. \u201cI suppose I prefer the dream to reality. Because, if you think about it, what do we have to lose?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nHe was walking under lush trees, leaves rustling above him, crunching under his feet. Sun dappled the grassy floor, teased him through the canopies. Liwei dug his toes into the rich soil, ran his hands down the rough bark. Round fruit weighed down the branches, and he realized he was in an orchard. Some part of him knew that this wasn\u2019t real, that the trees no longer existed, uprooted decades before his birth to make room for rectangular high-yield farms. That the cracked riverbeds and strictly metered water rights could no longer sustain such a paradise. But they were here, wherever here was, and he clung to the vision, filling himself with it, wanting it to never end.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe light broke around him and his surroundings began to change. Dead, parched grass under his soles, brown leaves raining on his head, blowing in the hot, dusty wind. Of the magnificent trees only dry poles remained. The sun was no longer a source of life, but a killer, a destroyer, the thirsty earth withering in its ferocious glare.\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei turned, thinking to escape, to turn back and head for the green idyll he\u2019d just seen, but the dessicated ground crumbled under his feet. A sinkhole as wide as the horizon upended up beneath him, a funnel dragging him deeper, no matter how hard he scrambled to escape it. Water gurgled inside the swirling vortex, drained into nothingness. Gravity clamped him in its iron fist, crushing his weakened muscles, compressing his unaccustomed lungs.\n<\/p>\n
\nWhen he turned his face up to scream, mud cascaded down, filling his mouth, and he was falling out into dead space, the world collapsing around him with a cataclysmic roar, dissolving into the dark.\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nHe surfaced from the dream into a chaos of noise, confused and disoriented, so soaked in sweat that for a moment he was back in the nightmare \u2013 drowning, being flushed out into the vacuum.\n<\/p>\n
\nSomething held him fast, restraining his movement. Liwei struggled, breathless with panic. The straps of his sleeping hammock. Realization brought the world back to him. He was in his cubby, and the klaxons were blaring like all hell had broken loose. Through the walls, he could hear massive hatches opening, the evacuation alarm reverberating through the station, the shouts and thumping of bodies moving through the tubes. Something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. He had to escape.\n<\/p>\n
\nOddly, the urgency calmed him, his body following long-ingrained patterns independent of his frantic mind. His hands released the straps, his feet pushed off the wall, propelling him out the door in a graceful parabola. Out of the dormitory ring, into the tunnels. Red emergency lights pulsed at regular intervals, illuminating shadowy figures rushing past him. The spoke was already full of people, but most of the crew were old hands, disciplined in spite of their terror. Liwei bounded up to a shuttle tech, grabbed her by the arm.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he said, raising his voice above the din of the klaxons. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe woman only shook her head, dark hair fanning out around her face like a halo. Liwei let her go, intercepted a pair of maintenance workers in yellow jumpsuits.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cTokamak failure,\u201d one of them shouted, pulling himself along the guiderail. \u201cThe central coils have become unstable. It\u2019s all hands to the evacuation points.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cEvacuation where?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDoes it matter?\u201d Someone seized him by the shoulders from behind, started to shove him up the tube. \u201cAway from here. Come on. You\u2019re holding up the line.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei broke free of the grip, propelled him through the hatch to the one of the docking ports. A whey-faced security noncom was checking crew names off a list, his hands shaking on his tablet.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhere is Chief Engineer Jia?\u201d Liwei screamed at the noncom. \u201cWhich port did he go to?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nA terrible, rending groan shuddered through the walls. Lights cut out and flickered back up. Shrieks and please erupted around him, snatched verses of Buddhist prayer. Hope the Ideological Commission isn\u2019t listening, Liwei thought, suppressing insane laughter.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe security man shook his head, torn between the urge to dive into the shuttle and discharging his duty. \u201cWho? I don\u2019t know, and I don\u2019t care. My job is to get thirty inside that shuttle. Did you hear me? Thirty, and we can leave.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nAnother tremor raced through the port. \u201cCome,\u201d the noncom said, abandoning his post to jump into the shuttle. \u201cIt\u2019s too dangerous. We have to go now.\u201d Then, seeing the Master Technician take a step back and fling himself back into the tunnel, like a fish in low-grav, he made an obscene gesture. \u201cLunatic! We won\u2019t wait for you!\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei flew down long-neglected passages, which were shaking like the inside of a drum. Dust floated out of old air ducts: already the station\u2019s spin was slowing, robbing it of the mild gravity induced by the agrifuge. There was no time to let himself think his actions through, to feel the slightest shred of doubt. Swinging from rail to rail, he gave himself up to the giddy, vertiginous sensation of plummeting through space, the way his body had learned to move in all its years of freedom. His lithe muscles working in perfect unison, his brittle bones not weighing him down, his finely attuned sense of balance maneuvering around twists and corners and piles of abandoned equipment.\n<\/p>\n
\nWas this not the way man was meant to move, his body free from the manacles of planetside gravity, all those millennia of imprisonment just a dark dream before this new and exhilarating wakefulness?\n<\/p>\n
\nSoon he was soaring past the storage ring, plunging into the great dirty heart of the station. Deeper and deeper, following a hunch he didn\u2019t dare examine closely. Here there were fewer lights, and more dark corners. A thin coat of grit lay everywhere, swirling without settling. The filth of humankind, carried into the sterile, pristine haven of outer space.\n<\/p>\n
\nThick steel rose before him, the containment wall of the reactor. The access panel was already dead. Liwei strained his ears, but could only hear the irregular beat of the tokamaks, the dull, distant clunk of the shuttles detaching, blasting off into the void. He looked around until he located a fire extinguisher, extracted it from its safety webbing. Engaging his magnetic boots for leverage, he drifted down to the floor, braced himself, and slammed the cylinder against the containment wall. He kept hammering, ignoring the pain that spread through his shoulders, calling out Xiao\u2019s name over the emergency sirens.\n<\/p>\n
\nIt came to him that he might die \u2013 either in a colossal explosion, heat and light blooming in the vast darkness, or slowly, agonizingly, as the reactor failed and the life support systems went offline, one by one. But Liwei discovered that he felt no fear at the thought. Death was preferable to sinking back to the dirty, smoke-belching cauldrons of the Earth, seeing its blackened ramparts close over the sky. Even if there was a chance of his body surviving, his spirit would never recover, forever yearning for freedom among the stars.\n<\/p>\n
\nA porthole opened in the containment wall and Xiao\u2019s bristly, unkempt face appeared in the riveted circle. Liwei lowered the fire extinguisher uncertainly. For a moment that seemed to go on forever, they stared at each other through the reinforced glass. Then hydraulics hissed and a sealed hatch popped open. Liwei disengaged his boots and pulled himself through.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe found himself on the tokamak\u2019s control bridge, rows of monitors blinking, service gantryways leading down to the reactor\u2019s shielded core. Stacks of boxes, carefully wrapped in webbing and secured to the walls, took up most of the remaining space. Liwei read the labels: dehydrated meals, a portable air cycling unit, water squeezebulbs. An entire synesthetic unit pilfered from the recreation room, bolted to the floor on his left. Enough to keep a small group alive and sane for several months.\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao\u2019s disembodied face floated out of the dimness. He didn\u2019t seem threatening, but Liwei hefted the fire extinguisher nevertheless. As if reading his thoughts, Xiao held his hands up, used his feet to bring himself to a halt, well out of reach. His expression was inscrutable.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou should have left with the others,\u201d he said. \u201cIt would have been easier for everyone.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei wanted to hurl abuse at the chief engineer, to bash his head in with his makeshift weapon. \u201cHow noble of you, Comrade,\u201d he said, nodding toward the reactor. \u201cStaying behind to try and save the station. They ought to give you a medal.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao sighed. He kicked over to a panel in the wall, scanned his hand, and pressed a finger to the touchscreen. The alarm died out; the lights came back on.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThere\u2019s nothing wrong with the reactors,\u201d he said, pulling himself down into a seat. \u201cBut I\u2019m sure you\u2019ve figured that out already. Otherwise you wouldn\u2019t be here. Why did you stay?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI told you,\u201d Liwei said. \u201cI don\u2019t have anywhere else to go.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe chief engineer nodded, his eyes distant. \u201cI couldn\u2019t let them have it,\u201d he said, as if to himself. \u201cOur sweat and toil. Years of getting the crop program off the ground, and that bastard, that bureaucratic louse, was going to have it shut down.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei scoffed. \u201cSpare me the sob story,\u201d he said angrily. \u201cIt was you all along. Wasn\u2019t it? Little things going wrong, here and there. You knew you were forcing their hand. But to what end?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe Revolution has lost its course,\u201d Xiao said. \u201cWe now have dominion over the cradle from which we have risen. But it\u2019s a dying world, a cesspit of ashes and filth. Down there, our dream of conquering space is all but forgotten. But up here it lives on.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nIn the dim light of the computer terminals, his eyes blazed with fire. \u201cAn entire generation has grown up in the orbitals, in vacuum and low-grav. A new humanity, free from the fetters of its homeworld, both physical and emotional. We can foge on. Turn that dream into reality. With the right kind of visionary-\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cVisionary?\u201d Liwei spat the word back at the chief engineer. \u201cYou\u2019re a fraud, Comrade. A liar and a thief, a would-be murderer.\u201d He took a few steps toward Xiao, who pressed himself back into his seat. \u201cYou cut my line that day,\u201d Liwei said. \u201cSabotaged my equipment. You would have let me die screaming in the void. Do you deny it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nA shadow crossed Xiao\u2019s face. \u201cI was sure you would be safe. It was necessary. Dao was forced to put an end to spacewalks after that. Which made it easier to create leaks. In the end, no one got hurt.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nLiwei felt his hands clench into fists. \u201cYou forced an evacuation. Robbed men and women of their livelihoods. Now you expect me to believe it was all for some nebulous higher cause.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI expected you to at least try to understand,\u201d Xiao said, rising and walking over to the strapped-in boxes. He was very pale \u2013 either with anger, or because he\u2019d just begun to grasp the immensity of what he\u2019d done. \u201cBut it doesn\u2019t matter either way. In a few hours, this agrifuge will be under external control.\u201d He gestured at the supplies. \u201cFood, water, shelter. We\u2019ll make the necessary modifications and repairs. Establish a new society, away from Earth. A collaboration of like-minded individuals, free from planetside control.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cFree?\u201d Liwei felt blood rush to his head. \u201cUse your brain, Xiao. The Standing Committee has the agrifuge under remote control. They have already given their verdict. Your orbit will be allowed to decay. Everyone on board will die.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\u201cNot if they believe there\u2019s reactor trouble.\u201d Xiao managed a small smile. \u201cDisposal of hazardous cargo is regulated by international treaties. Both the UN and the transants will call foul if they think the station is a nuclear threat. We have allies in the General Assembly, ready to apply diplomatic pressure. By the time the dust has settled, J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V will be a living, breathing community. By salvage rights, it won\u2019t belong to the Motherland anymore.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s why you faked the meltdown.\u201d Despite his resentment, Liwei had to admire the ingenuity of the scheme. Its very desperation, the infinitesimal likelihood of its success, had proved to be its strong points. \u201cTo have the station declared inoperative.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao nodded. \u201cBy law, any spacefaring craft may lay claim to a vessel in peril. Don’t you see I had no other choice? They were going to strip everything. Systems, crop rings, both tokamaks. Down to the smallest panel and cable. They would have rendered it useless.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe held out a tentative hand, as if trying to calm Liwei. \u201cYou can stay here,\u201d he said. \u201cWith us. We\u2019ll need an experienced maintenance tech. Lots of work to do before we can restart production again.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWith us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe chief engineer\u2019s eyes darted nervously toward the door hatch. \u201cA shuttle is on its way,\u201d he said. \u201cSettlers from one of the old weather platforms. The first of many. Once they make landing, J\u00f9b?op\u00e9n V will belong to us. What do you say? Equal stakes. No Standing Committee to tell us what to do, no Party line to toe. We\u2019ll have the freedom to set our own destiny.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBut not for the crew,\u201d Liwei said. Furtively, he clamped one boot magnet to the gantryway, his gaze never leaving Xiao\u2019s. It\u2019ll be in his eyes, he thought. Don\u2019t watch the hands, or the feet. Especially in low-grav. \u201cNo one asked them what their choice would be. This freedom you\u2019re proposing sounds a lot like the line the transnats are peddling. Free will, free choice, while they profit off the sweat of the workers.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao\u2019s tongue flicked across dry lips. \u201cIt would have been too risky,\u201d he said. \u201cAny one of them could have betrayed us to Dao. This was the only way that made sense.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThat\u2019s what they always say,\u201d Liwei said. \u201cCadres, executives, free market propagandists. Tough decisions for the greater good. Usually their own.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBelieve what you will,\u201d Xiao said, and now Liwei saw the flash in his eyes, the set of his jaw. He kicked off the wall and came right at the master technician, hand unfurling from his side, swinging a pistol-grip tool. Liwei flung himself to the side, pivoting on one magnetic boot, the tool missing his head by a hairsbreadth. In zero gravity, every twitch added up, a merciless equation. The force of the swing combined with the momentum of Xiao\u2019s charge, sending the chief engineer stumbling forward, flailing to reverse direction. He was bulkier than Liwei, his bones and muscles not as shriveled by weightlessness, and his superior strength and size worked against him now. Quick as a flash, Liwei unclipped his foot off the floor and threw himself at his opponent, inertia carrying them down the bridge, grappling and fumbling, jostling for position.\n<\/p>\n
\nThey smashed into the bulkhead with a teeth-rattling impact. Something gave in Liwei\u2019s shoulder, but adrenaline made him impervious to pain. Warm droplets misted his face: a gusher from Xiao\u2019s nose, flinging blood in a radial spray, blinding them both. The chief engineer was dazed, wide eyes rolling madly in a mask of red. Reaching up, Liwei grabbed loose webbing from the wall, used the long straps to bind the other man\u2019s hands tightly. It wouldn\u2019t hold Xiao long, but a few minutes were all he needed. He was faster than his opponent in this environment, a bird with hollow bones wheeling in its own contained sky.\n<\/p>\n
\nXiao\u2019s pleas followed him out of the reactor core, echoing down empty, cable-clogged passages. Liwei felt his heartbeat ratchet up, filling his ears with the roar of blood, his vision graying at the edges. He had to stay conscious, keep his wits about him, at least until the attack was repelled.\n<\/p>\n
\nHis angle was off and he slammed into the weapons room door like a drunk, clumsy in his eagerness. But the panel responded to the touch of his hand and the weapons room door slid open, then closed smoothly behind him. Grimy LEDs and displays, never used before, blinked to life under his hands. The seat he strapped himself into squeaked and smelled of new plastic. Bolts clicked, locking him inside. A three-dimensional schematic of the station wrapped around him, loading layer by layer, as he clamped the targeting sights over his eyes.\n<\/p>\n
\nI have to do it, he thought, his mind fuzzy, his head heavy like a blood-filled balloon. The distant thought of a vessel rupture came to him and was instantly dismissed. Liwei forced his attention on the particle guns, which were humming, powering up. A weapon made to destroy incoming missiles, designed for a war that never came. Now he was about to use it, fire the first shot at an enemy who couldn\u2019t fight back. Did he really have it in him?\n<\/p>\n
\nMetal clanged against the door, followed by Xiao\u2019s horrified voice. \u201cYou can\u2019t do this, Comrade. There are women and children on board that shuttle. This is not who you are. This is-\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThrough blurring vision, Liwei saw the spacecraft coming, a superannuated freighter, majestic in its approach. Thrusters blazing to slow it down, to adjust its course toward one of the empty docking berths. Targeting beams converged \u2013 killing algorithms designed to facilitate the snuffing out of human life. They could probably destroy the freighter without his help: his role was reduced to pulling the trigger, making the lethal decision.\n<\/p>\n
\nFor all its dreams of the stars, the ape still clung to its primitive instincts: bashing heads open, thumping its chest, baring its teeth at threats real and imagined. Liwei wiped a bloody tear from the corner of one eye. The Second Great Leap Forward. The banner of Progress and Prosperity flying on distant worlds.\n<\/p>\n
\nWas it possible that cliches were all he could think of in this terrible moment? Was it possible that cliches were all that there was, that there ever had been?\n<\/p>\n
\nFrantic pounding at the door. Someone was calling out his name, a senseless, droning litany. In the augmented vision of his sights, the freighter was growing, turning, docking clamps opening to catch hold. His finger on the trigger switch, Liwei floated in the emptiness, floated above the world, trying to make up his mind.\n<\/p>\n
Damir is the author of the sci-fi thriller “Kill Zone”, the occult mystery “Always Beside You”, and short stories featured in multiple horror and speculative fiction magazines and anthologies, including the Lovecraft eZine, The Dread Machine, Strange Aeon, and Scare Street\u2019s “Night Terrors” series. An auditor by trade and traveler by heart, he does his best writing on cruise ships, thirty-plus thousand feet in the air, and in the terminals of far-flung airports. He lives in Virginia and reviews horror movies, discusses books, and shares his unsolicited opinions on just about everything on his blog, Darker Realities.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Liwei was halfway across the big central panes of the crop module when a soft beep sounded in his ear and a warning light flashed across his helmet display, crimson dawn blurring out the endless backdrop of stars. Flat against the impregnable glass with his guide lines radiating from his suit, an outlandish and fragile …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107931,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,14,20129],"tags":[20130],"class_list":["post-140265","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-publications","category-tcl-48-summer-2023","tag-the-colored-lens-48-summer-2023","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140265","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107931"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=140265"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140265\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":140266,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140265\/revisions\/140266"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=140265"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=140265"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=140265"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}