“Look, Toby, I’m sorry…”
“What? What happened?”
“They grew apart,” said Kenani. “Your mother and father. He ended up on one side, trying to keep the colony as a whole together, and your mother, your brother, and your sister were on the other side, convinced that not enough was being done to find you.
“Finally, he relented and they used precious resources to send a small probe after you. The rest of us weren’t happy. It was going to take a year just to reach your last known position. Your dad made the decision, then went back to work. He had a colony to run, after all. Your mom, and Peter and Evayne … they watched and waited.”
Toby tried to picture the situation. Yeah, Dad would be steady in the face of a crisis like that. It was painful to think this, but he hoped that Dad would just mourn him and then carry on. It would have been the right thing to do.
“As the months wore on, your mom and Peter found it harder. Peter … he checked out of day-to-day life. You’d built this crazy online virtual reality together, and he became obsessed with perfecting it. Your mother went farther. She declared that she was going to winter over until the probe reported back. And over your father’s objections, she did.”
So that’s how it happened.
Kenani gazed off at nothing. “That time, it was for a year. She revived in time to learn that the probe had found ambiguous readings. Maybe it had seen a sign of your ship … maybe it was just a comet. That was far worse than a simple yes or no answer would have been. She became obsessed with finding out what had happened to you, and because you’d gone into hibernation yourself before your ship disappeared, she was convinced that wherever you were, you were still alive.
“It turned into a war between your mother and father—she trying to scrape together enough resources to send an expedition after you, he insisting that the colony couldn’t spare anything, that it was riding the knife-edge of failure anyway. This went on for … I dunno, a year or two?” He shrugged.
“And then … your mother thought of something. She’d seen the life-support projections. The colony couldn’t support its full population for much longer. She went to your father and made him an offer. It’s now the most famous, most studied deal in history.”
He paused dramatically.
Toby scowled at him. “Come on!”
“No, really. She said, ‘I know we don’t have the resources to send out an expedition. But we would if we had fewer mouths to feed. If I and some of my friends go into hibernation for another year, it’ll take the strain off the colony and give scavenger bots time to gather more ore and the manufactories time to grow more food. In return, you promise me that some of those resources will go toward building another probe to hunt for Toby.’”
A painful knot was growing in Toby’s gut. He didn’t want to hear any more, but at the same time, he had to know. He knit his hands together and stared down at his feet. After a moment, he felt Orpheus shift in his backpack, and the denner nuzzled his neck. He reached back to scratch Orpheus’s chin—and had a sudden idea.
He turned his attention away from the story for a moment.
Kenani was completely absorbed in his narrative, and so were Corva and Shylif, who had doubtless never heard their history told this way before. “So … well, she did have some volunteers. There were enough cicada beds because they’d used them on the trip out from Earth. Anyway, she deep-dove and … she convinced Peter and Evayne to go with her.”
Toby snapped to attention again. “They left Dad alone?”
Now Kenani wouldn’t meet his eye. “Twice: once while he gathered the new resources, and again to wait for the new probe to report back. Two years.
“But … but here’s the thing,” he went on quickly, “it worked! With them wintering over, the strain on the colony was reduced. The bots could do most of the work. When they came out of cold sleep, they pitched in and worked hard—it was almost like the colony had seasonal workers it could call on when needed and then send home when they were done. They could actually afford to send out a probe, and then later another.
“The colonists began to talk about it. If they wintered over during times when they weren’t needed, then they could supply labor when it was needed, and reap the rewards. They’d be richer than they’d imagined they could be, and the colony would grow … So more and more of them began following your mother’s example. This went on for a few years, and your dad fought it every step of the way. Eventually, he gave up.”
Toby gave an involuntary yelp that combined anger, grief, and surprise. His father never gave up. It was his iron will that had made the Sedna expedition possible. Kenani was talking about a man Toby didn’t know. “What did he do?”
“When the colony could afford it, he came to us—the other original founders—and asked us whether we’d join him. Some said yes, and he and they … went back to Earth.
“Listen, Toby, it wasn’t a retreat! They needed to go back to complete their claim on Sedna. By doing it, your father made the Sedna colony into an official world within the Solar Compact. He brought in investments and new colonists. And he brought all of you into the society of the trillionaires—he made it so you could own a world.”
“But he didn’t come back.” Toby had figured that out already. He was also acutely aware of how Kenani’s version of events didn’t match up to the fragmentary records he’d pulled from the twentier’s memory.
“No, Carter didn’t come back to Sedna,” said Kenani. “He…” The Guide grimaced. “After a few years, he remarried. He lived a long life. I don’t know if he was happy. He was a pretty private person.”
Remarried.
Okay, he wanted Kenani to stop talking now.
“Meanwhile, your mother had discovered that the longer she wintered over, the more resources her mining and refining machines could accumulate to use when she woke up. Also, the probes that were hunting you were going farther and farther, and taking longer and longer to report back. Her sleeps became longer and longer, and she convinced more people to join her in them. New colonists arrived, and some of them followed the new pattern, too. Peter and Evayne … they were growing up, and they knew the colony needed a McGonigal to be present at all times to ensure their sovereignty. So they started alternating—leapfrogging forward through time while your mother slept more and more.
“Your mother’s probes had photographed and mapped other nomad planets, far past the orbit of Sedna. It was she who realized that if an expedition visited one of those while everyone back home was wintering over, it would be as if those worlds were right next door. She encouraged an expedition to a planet that was two years away, and when that worked, she put together a colonization program.
“Here’s the thing, Toby: the new colony couldn’t have survived if they’d run all their machines and life support all the time. They wintered over three-quarters of the time; that’s what allowed them to survive. But they did more than that! They thrived. And when regular flights between the two worlds became possible, they decided to coordinate their hibernation times with the people back on Sedna.
“That is how the locksteps began.”
“NOW I’M AFRAID I’M going to have to separate you from those traveling companions of yours,” he said, motioning for one of the military bots to come forward. “Don’t worry—we’ve got cicada beds for all kinds of clients.”
Corva held Wrecks so tightly that he squeaked in protest. “But they always winter over with us!”