other bubble tents in the residential section. Filtered air hissed into the room, and the walls trembled with pressure.
He waved his arms as he spoke. “I just can’t get through to him. I can’t make him see I don’t need his protection anymore.”
Cole said, “It’s not an easy thing, being reminded you’re no longer needed.”
Trace plopped down on the couch. “I’m not leaving. That’s all. I have a mission.”
“What if your superiors order you back?”
They won’t. Not unless my father comes with me . He sighed. “Are you going to send another message?”
“If your father insists.” Cole sat next to him. “But if you want to get an initial report together, I can send it at the same time, give them both sides of the issue.”
“That’s fair.”
“Fine, then.” Cole steepled his fingers and tapped his chin.
Trace gazed at the arched ceiling. He removed his mask and tossed it onto a table. The air smelled dank and musty. “What are you two doing out here? It can’t be for the money. Dad has more money than he’ll ever spend.”
“It’s not the money, no. I think your father feels there’s something missing in his life. Ever since your mother died—”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him, now?”
Cole looked at him. “I don’t think he’d appreciate it if you did.”
“I’ll never understand him.”
“You expect too much.”
“What do you mean?” Trace said. “He’s the one who expects things from me. He’s never seen me for who I am.”
“Sometimes that can go both ways.”
“So, you’re saying this is my fault?”
Cole smiled. “I’m saying that it might be time to see him not as a father but as a man.”
“An obnoxious, intractable—”
“And dedicated leader. Whom you have to deal with if you are to accomplish this mission of yours.”
Trace ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Your job,” Cole said. “The best that you know how. And let him see the man you’re coming to be.”
Trace looked at him. Words jumbled in his throat, and he realized that he needed to tell Cole his exact orders, needed the advice of someone older. “About my mission—” He cocked his head. “What’s that noise?” He heard it again.
Someone was screaming.
CHAPTER 10
T race’s eyes widened as he heard the panicked voices. Cole leaped up and grabbed his flamethrower. Without a word, they pushed through the heavy flap that served as the door to Cole’s quarters and darted down the main passage.
The ceiling of the translucent tube barely cleared Trace’s head. Daylight filtered through the sides. Several colonists ran up the corridor behind them. The walls shuddered with their thundering boots.
“Where’s the blasted alarm?” Cole shouted. “We’re supposed to have advanced notice. Why didn’t the alarm go off?”
“Maybe they’re too fast,” a woman said.
Trace followed her gaze. Through the tube’s curved distortion, he saw people dash in every direction. A brilliant plume of flame jetted from a flamethrower. Then he made out the much larger shadow of a moss man.
Cole spurred the colonists to run faster. They ducked sideways through a slotted aperture into what Cole had termed the clean room, a knoblike juncture between tubes. A cyclone roared through vents overhead. It created a barrier against microbes and spores. Trace faltered and lost his balance against the extreme wind. Fighting forward, he leaped outside through another slot in the tube wall.
He recoiled from the pungent reek of the planet. It was like drowning in compost. Cole joined a line of men with flamethrowers. They advanced toward the moss man.
Above the racket, Trace heard the whine of stat-gun fire. Blue flashes outlined a group of huts a short distance away. He glanced around to catch Cole’s eye, to tell him that he would check it out, when he saw Madsen, Wilde, and Impani run toward the melee from a dome at the far end of camp. Trace
He waved his arms as he spoke. “I just can’t get through to him. I can’t make him see I don’t need his protection anymore.”
Cole said, “It’s not an easy thing, being reminded you’re no longer needed.”
Trace plopped down on the couch. “I’m not leaving. That’s all. I have a mission.”
“What if your superiors order you back?”
They won’t. Not unless my father comes with me . He sighed. “Are you going to send another message?”
“If your father insists.” Cole sat next to him. “But if you want to get an initial report together, I can send it at the same time, give them both sides of the issue.”
“That’s fair.”
“Fine, then.” Cole steepled his fingers and tapped his chin.
Trace gazed at the arched ceiling. He removed his mask and tossed it onto a table. The air smelled dank and musty. “What are you two doing out here? It can’t be for the money. Dad has more money than he’ll ever spend.”
“It’s not the money, no. I think your father feels there’s something missing in his life. Ever since your mother died—”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him, now?”
Cole looked at him. “I don’t think he’d appreciate it if you did.”
“I’ll never understand him.”
“You expect too much.”
“What do you mean?” Trace said. “He’s the one who expects things from me. He’s never seen me for who I am.”
“Sometimes that can go both ways.”
“So, you’re saying this is my fault?”
Cole smiled. “I’m saying that it might be time to see him not as a father but as a man.”
“An obnoxious, intractable—”
“And dedicated leader. Whom you have to deal with if you are to accomplish this mission of yours.”
Trace ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Your job,” Cole said. “The best that you know how. And let him see the man you’re coming to be.”
Trace looked at him. Words jumbled in his throat, and he realized that he needed to tell Cole his exact orders, needed the advice of someone older. “About my mission—” He cocked his head. “What’s that noise?” He heard it again.
Someone was screaming.
CHAPTER 10
T race’s eyes widened as he heard the panicked voices. Cole leaped up and grabbed his flamethrower. Without a word, they pushed through the heavy flap that served as the door to Cole’s quarters and darted down the main passage.
The ceiling of the translucent tube barely cleared Trace’s head. Daylight filtered through the sides. Several colonists ran up the corridor behind them. The walls shuddered with their thundering boots.
“Where’s the blasted alarm?” Cole shouted. “We’re supposed to have advanced notice. Why didn’t the alarm go off?”
“Maybe they’re too fast,” a woman said.
Trace followed her gaze. Through the tube’s curved distortion, he saw people dash in every direction. A brilliant plume of flame jetted from a flamethrower. Then he made out the much larger shadow of a moss man.
Cole spurred the colonists to run faster. They ducked sideways through a slotted aperture into what Cole had termed the clean room, a knoblike juncture between tubes. A cyclone roared through vents overhead. It created a barrier against microbes and spores. Trace faltered and lost his balance against the extreme wind. Fighting forward, he leaped outside through another slot in the tube wall.
He recoiled from the pungent reek of the planet. It was like drowning in compost. Cole joined a line of men with flamethrowers. They advanced toward the moss man.
Above the racket, Trace heard the whine of stat-gun fire. Blue flashes outlined a group of huts a short distance away. He glanced around to catch Cole’s eye, to tell him that he would check it out, when he saw Madsen, Wilde, and Impani run toward the melee from a dome at the far end of camp. Trace