Chronicles of Chiron

“Uh, you two don’t have a place to stay in this dome, do you?” Fritz asks. “No,” I admit. None of my thinking ahead has included anything practical. “Well, since my shop is closed anyway,” he says, gesturing at the mess, “why don’t you just crash here? How long are you going to be in … Read more

“We can definitely do something with this cloth,” Fritz says, when the fabric swatches are all in their jars and showing the first signs of taking on color. Cleve has accumulated a pile of clothes now, which Fritz will need to go through to decide what can be salvaged. Just having someone take charge of … Read more

Cleve shoots me a look—the politicking in the dome is all my responsibility—and then starts straightening up the shop. I sneak another glance at Fritz from the front where my blazer is, trying to decide if it’s all right for me to approach again—not that I have any intention of picking up that Leyland Campos … Read more

As soon as the door to the shop opens, I hear a ragged voice declare, “Go away. We’re closed for repairs. Wait, that door’s supposed to be locked.” “Fritz! You’re okay?” I call out, entering the shop. There’s a startled clatter and a thump from the backroom, and then a disheveled Fritz practically stumbles into … Read more

The central boulevard, while not as festive as last time we were here, is still beautifully appointed. The streets are clear, the Earth trees are trimmed, the storefronts are… Well, they are actively being cleaned. Here and there, we see signs of unrest in the dome. Painters are laying a fresh coat over graffiti on … Read more

There is no major holiday party going on today in the dome. The turnstiles are shut to those without a pass. Bereft of credits, we turn our steps to the back alleys. It’s early morning now, and while it’s not raucous, there is constant noise. The ubiquitous slot machines advertise their presence, small trucks rumble … Read more

“Halt!” a voice cries, a bit garbled by a speaker. “What are you doing?” Cleve shoots a pointed look at me, either cueing me to take the lead here or asserting the importance of disguises. I stabilize my weight evenly over my two legs and lift my left hand up to shield my eyes from … Read more

Our pleasure cruise aboard Good Fortune ends in the dark of early morning, north of the main Morgan dome, opposite the side I’ve been through. The miasma risk is lower at this time of day, and night shrouds the ship as it approaches the coast. Gale descends to wind herself around me in farewell, enjoying … Read more

Once we’ve said our goodbyes and are outside heading back down the sloping skull toward our landing beach, I tell Cleve, “So, on your to-do list, next to where you have making better masks, add launching a message to the stars.” Cleve chuckles. “Sure. Given what I’ve seen you do, I’m sure you can figure … Read more

It still boggles my mind how disinterested Thara is in the actual scientific project going on here. The same is not true of Alakai though. As Thara leads us back toward the exit, he greets us brusquely. “You got what you came for?” he asks. He’s cooled down a bit—the gun is put away, replaced … Read more

Pastor Thara opens the door and ushers us inside this section of the wrecked colony module. I’m familiar with the layout, a long hallway off of which are small rooms packed with cryobeds. This looks quite different from the renderings in the promotional material, though. The amount of mangled metal… so much here was ruined … Read more

Pastor Thara requests that Cleve and Redd put their weapons completely away, but Cleve’s been burned by too many briar beasts to simply do so. “Is there anything dangerous on this island?” he asks. “The doctor had a weapon.” “I’m afraid that you are the most dangerous things on this island,” she replies, gesturing at … Read more