Two now defunct shops near Binary Bloom’s docking bay had been transformed into registration centers for the evacuation transports. There were queues in front of both of them.

The first, set in a convenience store that had catered to those visiting or leaving the station, had a hand-painted sign that said: „permanent evac to planets“. It had the shorter queue. On the inside, three counters were set up, one for each of the Junkstorm planets. More hand-written signs were hanging on the walls leading into the shop, containing information for those interested. A man was walking up and down the queue every ten minutes or so, telling people that until an agreement with the planetary government was in place, only those with citizenship or resident permits for their chosen destination could be accepted.

Diagonally across, the office of a small travel agency had been turned into, as the similarly makeshift sign above the entrance read, the registration office for „temporary Aethel evac“. Its queue was more than twice as long. A woman was giving out leaflets at the end of the queue and collecting them again from the front with a list of professions. Above the list it explained that only those with one of the listed professions could be accepted in the first wave. About half of the people left the queue after reading the leaflet.

Nearby, a hallway branched off the main corridor, leading to the administration center of Binary Bloom. It was deserted and appeared empty, but behind the third door on the left, the large meeting room, nearly twenty people were in the middle of a heated argument.

In the middle of the room, a holographic globe of the planet was annotated with several locations and their base data. Around it, groups of four or five were discussing the merits and drawbacks of the various options. In reality, the discussion had moved away from one about location and returned to the questions of if and how.

„So“, the representative of the engineers guild said to a gentlemen in his group, „none of the options suit you, but you can’t offer a new alternative, either.“

„I’m not a colonization expert.“, the man shot back, „But I can see the obvious risks we are taking here. It is vital for our people that we consider everything before sending them somewhere that might turn into their grave.“

In the group next to them, the discussion had moved to an entirely different question. „And I still think it is wrong to call it ‚temporary‘.“, a young woman with the traders’ guild remarked, „Even in the best case it will be years before Bloom is ready for a return. If ever. We are giving people false hope!“

In front of the video wall that was currently switched off, a group of guild leaders had gathered around Nicodemus Hallows, governor of Binary Bloom and currently juggling the plethora of tasks, requests, demands and decisions falling upon him. The group around him was discussing the logistics of a planet-side settlement and rebuilding of the station. Tablets with tables or sketches were shown around.

Someone said: „Once the lower decks are shut down and sealed off, we can take the radiation shielding from there and move it to the surface. The underside of Bloom receives the least amount, the floors and structure in-between should do.“

„But will that be enough?“, someone else said, „If the queues are an indication, two thirds of our population prefers Aethel.“

Nico was listening to the words spoken, but his attention was on the non-verbal communication between the people in his group. There was doubt about the practicality of the plan to retreat to the planet below temporarily and rebuild Bloom. But the supporters were still a strong majority. He was a minority. The tablet in his hands showed the projection of this undertaking, and clearly demonstrated that there were not enough resources, no sustainable revenue stream, no reliable timeline to return, nothing that would support the idea that people were likely to return to the station in a reasonable time.

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He flipped the page to look at the settlement estimate. This was the part that worried him most. He spoke up: „I’ve shown you my projections and you didn’t believe me. If we want to settle a few thousand people on Aethel, we will need most of the radiation shielding from Bloom. The planet’s magnetic field is too weak for life above simple plants and micro-organisms to survive for long. Radiation will poison, then kill, our people. I won’t let anyone fly off that way without a viable plan.“

The fifth group was sitting at the meeting table, huddled around a computer. Comprised mostly of engineers, they were evaluating scenarios of dismantling and rebuilding Bloom, setting up and enlarging a colony on the planet, and shipping the necessary parts and materials up and down. So far, their findings were proving Nico right. None of their scenarios came even close to the target numbers they had set.

„If the damn sun were more like sol, it could work.“, one of them said, staring at the stellar activity chart. Aethel’s sun was not like sol. It was considerably more active, especially regarding hard radiation.

The group discussions continued for another half hour before Nico called the assembly to order and everyone returned to their seats.

„We agreed“, he began, „to discuss the option of a temporary settlement on the surface, with Binary Bloom serving as a space dock for ships unable to land in a planet. Our best solution so far allows at most a thousand people on the surface and a few hundred on Bloom. At most. Has anyone come up with improvements that change any of that?“

One by one, groups and individuals presented their results, ideas and judgements. The engineering group had found a clever way to keep more of Bloom running with only a minor strain on resources. The leadership group had decided on a quota system and had an economically viable solution to supply a small colony until it was self-sustaining. Just two members of the assembly suggested scrapping the plan. Everyone wanted to keep Bloom operational, one way or the other.

Nico sighed. He had the same desire, but everything he had seen so far convinced him that they at best delayed the unavoidable. He was exhausted and emotionally drained.

„Any closing statements before we have a vote?“, he asked the table. Nobody had any.

„From what I’ve heard, we have three proposals. One, we abandon Binary Bloom entirely and focus on getting everyone off the station quickly and safely. Two, we shut down 90% of Bloom, keep the space dock around with a crew of about two hundred and move a thousand people to the surface. We attempt to rebuild Bloom and move people back as it becomes possible to do so. Third, partial shutdown of Binary Bloom, keeping a thousand people on board and as many as want to moving to the planet with a concerted effort to solve all the resources and logistics issues as we go along.“

Nico looked around the room, giving everyone the opportunity to add another option. It seemed he had covered it all, because nobody did.

„Right“, he concluded, „Let’s vote. All in favor of option one, raise your hands.“ He wanted so much to raise his own hand, but had decided to abstain. It was his job to implement whatever the assembly decided, and since there was little hope for his choice to be the majority, raising his hand would only make some doubt that he would see whatever they decided through.

To his surprise, three hands were raised. Not many, but more than he had expected.

„Three“, he summed up, waiting a second if anyone else changed their mind and joined in. It remained at three.

„Everyone in favor of option two, raise your hands now.“

Nine hands raised. Then another, then one more, hesitatingly. Eleven. That was it. There were only seven people who had not cast a vote yet.

Nico gave everyone closure: „Check, everyone in favor of option three, raise hands.“

Five hands were raised. Aside from himself, the head of the agriculture guild had abstained.

The faces around the room showed relief. The difficulty of the decision was written into them, and fell away now. Someone started to clap and a moment later the room applauded itself.

Raising both his arms, Nico called for silence. „Everyone, we have a decision. I’ll put it into writing and send it around for corrections, then we will distribute it to the station. Who will go to the registration desk so people know as soon as possible that spots for the planetary settlement will be limited?“