Asimov's Science Fiction: July 2013 Read Online Free Page B

already, with Mil Div and your ship and all." He glanced away, blushing in apology.
    That gave me an unexpected pang, because as soon as he said it I thought of Captain Song, and Achebe, and my squad and even Sergeant Barrett who ran the mess hall. I could picture them all, perfectly. "I guess so," I said. "I don't have any regrets, Tom, if that's what you're asking."
    "No, it's not what I'm asking. I just thought you might be ready for a change."
    I couldn't have had this talk with Zelda, who wouldn't understand why I loved to travel at all, and would have become f lustered trying. Nearly every message she sent me, she asked when I was coming home. But I'd always believed what I told Captain Song: I didn't have a home.
    We finished our wine just as Zelda and Mim came in. I told Tom, "I'll think about it. I'm here to think about it."
    Zelda stared. "You talked? Tom, did you talk to her? Wendy, what did you decide?"
    "I decided to think about it," I said.
    Zelda looked at the ceiling and groaned in frustration. "We'll just have to keep stuffing with you wine until you agree to stay."
    Sounded like a good plan to me.
    I got a bad sunburn my second week on Ariana. After the first week of napping and eating and more sleeping, I'd woken up and felt the need to do something, so Zelda took me to the coast and we'd gone for a hike on a trail overlooking ocean. Ocean was something I didn't see very often, and I must have spent an hour just staring out.
    Zelda was very apologetic—they had sunblock lotion, but they all spent so much time outside they'd gotten tan enough that it didn't matter. They wore wide-brimmed hats to keep the sun off, and she hadn't thought to get a hat for me.
    I assured her that I didn't mind. "It's just so nice feeling the warmth off a G-type main sequence star, it's worth a little burn." Really, the redness felt like carrying the sun inside with me, which made me smile.
    Zelda had stared at me for a minute. Like I'd been speaking a different language, there. "Weird," She said finally, shaking her head.
    Yeah.
    They babied me with aloe for my face, the big f luffy bed and clean, sun-dried bedding, and lots and lots of food. I was gaining weight by the day, enough to throw off fuel calculations for a drop shuttle. I wasn't sure I deserved all the attention from Zelda and the others, however much they kept going on about their interstellar heroic sister and begging me for stories. They weren't really celebrating the Mil Div hero, of which there were hundreds; they were celebrating me because I was family. I was
their
Mil Div hero.
    After that first week, I sent a short message to Achebe asking for news and the mood of the ship. Just out of curiosity.
    We played card games by the fireplace in the evenings, Zelda and the others teaching me the ones they'd learned on Ariana, me teaching the ones I'd learned on my travels. Tom lit a fire, not because it was cold but because I was amazed that they actually burned organic materials with open f lame. Oxygen-devouring open f lame. They had air to burn, on a planet like this. Once I remembered to breathe, I could appreciate the fire's smoky warmth, the friendly crackling of the burning wood.
    "Are you sure you're okay?" Mim asked. I must have been acting like a freak. I always said yes.
    I tried to imagine myself as part of the routine here. Milking goats, treading in gravity. Babysitting. Something attractive about that kind of life. It was something we talked about on the ship sometimes. Most Mil Div folk had this assumption that if we managed to survive, we would retire one day to plots of land on bucolic worlds like Ariana, with spouses and babies and green growing things. I'd send them pictures of the coast and cliffs, breaking waves, blossoms in the trees, and they'd sigh with envy. And then they'd all sign up for another tour.
    A couple of times a week, supper was a production because Tom came back from the market in Sage with treasures, fresh foodstuffs they