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"No."
"Then what?"
"I was going to say you'll end becoming a suitor in some arranged marriage. That's what your family does, isn't it? They mix up the gene pool by swapping eligible bachelors and brides among the families."
"We have to, Imala. Families are isolated. We can't intermarry. That would be incest. All of our kids would have twelve toes and a second pair of eyes."
"I'm not advocating incest," said Imala. "I'm saying arranged marriages strip you of your right to choose. I've seen the documentaries, Vico. Newlywed brides bawling their eyes out because they've been forced to marry a stranger."
"It's not always like that," said Victor.
"It is sometimes."
"Why are we even arguing about this?"
"Because you're not thinking about your own future, Vico. Your mother is leading the effort to reconfigure the ship. She says she can handle it."
"And she's wrong, Imala. Installing all of that equipment, making all the necessary configurations, it's far more complicated than she realizes."
"Or maybe she knows precisely what she's getting into, and she wants to try it anyway. Sometimes you have to trust people enough to let them succeed and love them enough to let them fail. You can't fix everything, Vico. If you do, the only lesson people will learn is dependency. Your mother has done fine without you all this time. If you rush to her now, what is that saying? Hi, Mom. I knew you were incapable of doing this task, so I've come to rescue you."
"I love my family, Imala. My mother has been through a nightmare. She lost my father, her home, half her family. Is it a crime to want to comfort her?"
"Of course not."
"I have nothing here, Imala."
"A job, a possible future, friends who care about you. That's nothing?"
"My job offer is from someone who lied to us and abandoned us. Have you forgotten what Lem Jukes is? The only reason he actually followed through was because of the tech. This was an economic decision for him all the way. Why should I put much stock in any offer from him?"
"You're right, Vico. What I was thinking? Silly stupid me." She walked out before he could say another word.
*
Lem was alone in his apartment when his wrist pad lit up with messages. He flipped through them and saw that they were all from journalists seeking an interview. He had already received dozens of such requests, and he had erased or ignored them all. He was done with the press, done with the phony theater of it all.
By now the media had interviewed many of the miners who had participated in the final battle. Each of them had given harrowing accounts of the fighting. When pressed about Lem Jukes's involvement, they had all explained how Lem had called them to arms and promised to financially reward the ship that accumulated the most kills. The media had had a field day with the Argentine family who had won. Lem had paid them as promised, and the press was all too happy to stick a camera in the people's faces. Some of the women had cried. Now they could get needed medicine and food. Now they could repair their ship.
One reporter had called it "Humanity among the horrors of war." KINDNESS IN THE CHAOS, read another headline.
Lem wanted to laugh. Didn't the press realize he had done it to save his own skin? The more aggressive the miners were, the better chance they all had of getting out alive. Wasn't that obvious? This was self-preservation, you fools, not philanthropy.
But what did the media care? If the charity angle resonated with people and generated a high click count and ad revenue, they would milk that cow for all it was worth.
Still, Lem was curious why a rush of reporters would contact him now and request an interview days after the battle. Some new bit of information had been released perhaps. Some little nugget of intel that everyone in the world was hungry for.
Curious, Lem went online to see what scrap of information the press was running.
To his surprise, a vid was playing on all of the feeds. It showed Lem at the helm of the Valas, Lem at his warehouse, Lem in his fighter taking on the Formics, Lem interacting with the MOPs. There was audio as well.
How was this possible? Who had taken all of these vids?
It was Father, of course. Who else? He had been watching Lem with hidden cameras every step of the way.
Lem was so furious, he flew immediately to headquarters. Father's receptionist tried to stop him, but Lem blew by her desk and burst into Father's office. "You used me!"
Ukko was sitting at his desk, head back, a paper bib around his neck protecting his suit. A makeup artist was leaning over him dabbing a paintbrush at Ukko's eyebrows. A man with a holopad was standing off to the side. He wore a finely tailored suit, and not a single hair of his head was out of place. He stepped between Lem and his father, frowned, and put a hand up. "I'm sorry, Lem. Your father is in the middle of something. Now isn't a good time. Can I call you later to set something up? We could discuss a time you two could meet?" He checked his holopad. "How's six this evening?" He offered his hand. "I'm Maxwell, by the way."
