Lifeline

When the time came to go, Ramis participated in the ceremonies with self-contained indignation. Solemnly, he attended a special Mass held for him and managed to recite Saint Christopher’s litany without stumbling.

Dobo Daeng helped him suit up as Magsaysay watched in silence. Ramis turned around to take a yearning look back at the Aguinaldo. Several adult Jumpers sped around the circumference of the cylinder or bounced across the Sibuyan Sea. Ramis realized he had never completed his nighttime Jump, and now he’d probably not have another chance. They will miss me, he thought, knowing it was true.

The great cylindrical core, with wall-kelp, dwellings, small buildings, and recreational areas wrapped around the axis, rotated on.

Ramis followed Dobo to the airlock. President Magsaysay held out a slender hand. “Your father and mother would be proud of you this day, Ramis. Our people are proud.”

Sandovaal scowled, fidgeting where he stood. “Hurry, boy. The creature is dying as you waste time.”

Ramis set his mouth. He knew if he spoke, tears would flow. And if that happened, they would not let him go—he is only a boy! they would say.

“If I am doing this, Dr. Sandovaal, you can please stop calling me a boy.” He lowered his gaze, mainly to keep Sandovaal from seeing the smug expression on his face.

Dobo gave the boy an unexpected hug. “May God be with you.” He crossed himself.

Turning, Ramis snapped his faceplate down so no one could see the tears in his eyes. He entered the airlock and stomped his boot on the floorplates, to feel solid ground beneath him perhaps for the last time.

A bioengineer met him as the airlock outgassed to the vacuum. Ramis pushed out from the airlock, and the spectacle of the unbounded universe took his breath away. The stars, black space, the rich river of the Milky Way pouring across the sky.

Moored to the Aguinaldo, Sarat’s bodily core ballooned in a fat cigar shape. Three space-suited figures worked at a cavity at one end of its body. Ramis felt nauseated. What have they done to you, Sarat? he thought. One of the space-suited figures motioned for him to hurry.

Approaching, Ramis saw wispy-thin sails, like gigantic butterfly wings, spreading out from Sarat’s body core. They were stretched farther than he could see, more fragile than anything seen on Earth.

He drew in a breath. The air echoed in the confined chamber of his helmet. The suit pressure made his movements stiff and difficult. The thin sail-membranes reflected little light toward him. But they haloed Sarat in a glorious majesty—a crown for the sacrifice the creature would make for the survival of Orbitech I.

A gloved hand touched his elbow, guiding him closer to Sarat’s main body. Ramis closed his eyes, not wanting to look. Through the careful application of irritant chemicals, the bioengineers had caused a cyst to form in Sarat’s expanding core—a cramped and hollow blister to house one small rider, some packages of wall-kelp, and three sail-creature embryos. The wall-kelp would grow inside the cyst, providing oxygen and food for Ramis to survive the journey.

Swimming through open space, Ramis reached the end of the tether holding Sarat to the colony. With the help of the others, he worked his way into the cavity, pushing against Sarat’s skin, elbowing into the darkness inside. It was cramped but flexible, like a giant womb. Through the material of his gloves, he felt Sarat’s body. It seemed different—tougher, thinner. Not like the gentle, harmless beast he had played with in the core.

He tucked his arms and legs in, moving his elbows to see how much room he would have—pitifully little for a ten-day journey. The bioengineers floated in front of the opening, blocking his view of the Aguinaldo’s long cylinder. Together they worked to join the edges, using cellular sealant to close the cyst. Ramis was completely enclosed, safe—trapped.

He moved his legs to get more comfortable. He reached out a hand to touch the inner wall of the sail-creature and imagined Sarat exposed to the cold nothing of space.

“Boy, are you all right?” Sandovaal’s grating voice came over the radio.

“Yes.” Ramis switched his receiver off. “Stop calling me boy,” he muttered to himself. He methodically unpackaged the wall-kelp nodules and set them against the membrane wall. Even here, the kelp would grow rapidly, tapping into Sarat’s metabolism and filling the cavity with oxygen. Ramis also knew the kelp would drain Sarat’s energy reserves, further shortening the sail-creature’s life.

While Ramis waited, the bioengineers hooked up the external video camera, allowing him to see his destination. He could hear nothing in the vacuum, but he felt occasional vibrations through Sarat’s skin. Testing, Ramis used the joystick controls wired through the cyst. He swiveled the camera around, panning the ten-kilometer length of the Aguinaldo. He wondered if he would get homesick.