“Got it,” I said. “It’s nice to be sort of wanted.” We continued washing dishes in silence for a few minutes.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Jane said, eventually. “Do you like it here? Do you want to stay on Huckleberry?”
“I get a vote?” I asked.
“Of course you do,” Jane said. “If we take this, it would mean leaving Huckleberry for at least a few standard years while we got the colony up and running. But realistically it would mean leaving here for good. It would mean all of us leaving here for good.”
“If,” I said, a little surprised. “You didn’t say yes.”
“It’s not the sort of decision you make in the middle of a sorghum field,” Jane said, and looked at me directly. “It’s not something we can just say yes to. It’s a complicated decision. We’ve been looking over the information all afternoon, seeing what the Colonial Union’s plans are for the colony. And then we have to think about our lives here. Mine, John’s and yours.”
I grinned. “I have a life here?” I asked. This was meant as a joke.
Jane squashed it. “Be serious, Zo?,” she said. The grin left my face. “We’ve been here for half of your life now. You have friends. You know this place. You have a future here, if you want it. You can have a life here. It’s not something to be lightly tossed aside.” She plunged her hands into the sink, searching under the soap suds for another dish.
I looked at Jane; there was something in her voice. This wasn’t just about me. “You have a life here,” I said.
“I do,” Jane said. “I like it here. I like our neighbors and our friends. I like being the constable. Our life here suits me.” She handed me the casserole dish she’d just cleaned. “Before we came here I spent all my life in the Special Forces. On ships. This is the first world I’ve actually lived on. It’s important to me.”
“Then why is this a question?” I said. “If you don’t want to go, then we shouldn’t do it.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t go,” Jane said. “I said I have a life here. It’s not the same thing. There are good reasons to do it. And it’s not just my decision to make.”
I dried and put away the casserole dish. “What does Dad want?” I asked.
“He hasn’t told me yet,” Mom said.
“You know what that means,” I said. “Dad’s not subtle when there’s something he doesn’t want to do. If he’s taking his time to think about it, he probably wants to do it.”
“I know,” Mom said. She was rinsing off the flatware. “He’s trying to find a way to tell me what he wants. It might help him if he knew what we wanted first.”
“Okay,” I said.
“This is why I asked you if you liked it here,” Jane said, again.
I thought about it as I dried the kitchen counter. “I like it here,” I said, finally. “But I don’t know if I want to have a life here.”
“Why not?” Jane asked.
“There’s not much here here, is there?” I said. I waved toward the general direction of New Goa. “The selection of life choices here is limited. There’s farmer, farmer, store owner, and farmer. Maybe a government position like you and Dad.”
“If we go to this new colony your choices are going to be the same,” Jane said. “First wave colonist life isn’t very romantic, Zo?. The focus is on survival, and preparing the new colony for the second wave of colonists. That means farmers and laborers. Outside of a few specialized roles that will already be filled, there’s not much call for anything else.”
“Yes, but at least it would be somewhere new,” I said. “There we’d be building a new world. Here we’re just maintaining an old one. Be honest, Mom. It’s kind of slow around these parts. A big day for you is when someone gets into a fistfight. The highlight of Dad’s day is settling a dispute over a goat.”
“There are worse things,” Jane said.
“I’m not asking for open warfare,” I said. Another joke.
And once again, another stomping from Mom. “It’ll be a brand-new colony world,” she said. “They’re the ones most at risk for attack, because they have the fewest people and the least amount of defense from the CDF. You know that as well as anyone.”
I blinked, actually surprised. I did know it as well as anyone. When I was very young—before I was adopted by Jane and John—the planet I lived on (or above, since I was on a space station) was attacked. Omagh. Jane almost never brought it up, because she knew what it did to me to think about it. “You think that’s what’s going to happen here?” I asked.
Jane must have sensed what was going on in my head. “No, I don’t,” she said. “This is an unusual colony. It’s a test colony in some ways. There will be political pressure for this colony to succeed. That means more and better defenses, among other things. I think we’ll be better defended than most colonies starting out.”