Miss Coraline cradled her two-year-old, reminding herself for the hundredth time, if not the thousandth, that her son's heavy weight was indeed a good thing. It seemed though that the longer he slept in her arms, the heavier he became. If she were to estimate, she'd guess he weighed the same as a large sack of potatoes, but she had no real way of knowing.
Coraline shifted the heavy boy to her other shoulder, giving her first shoulder a break. She was careful not to bump or even graze the man sitting next to her. He had not offered her a smile or even a friendly look during the entire trip to Mars. Rubrum , she chided herself. And she was not from Earth , she was from Terra . They'd been adamant about that. Rubrum wasn't too keen on the surge of prospectors, homesteaders, and would-be settlers. Not after Earth had another world war. The war had been good and done for years, but relations between Earth and the red planet had not been pleasant since the war started. Rubruns saw Terra as a cheating husband that left his wife hanging out to dry and no one to share the responsibility of their shared child. Just like Coraline.
Just the thought of him made her eyes twitch, looking for some clue, some sign that her ex-husband had in fact followed her, stowed away on the ship and hidden until an opportune time when he could catch her wrist or maybe a fistful of hair and drag her kicking and screaming back home.
Out of reflex she clutched Ashton tighter. He tossed in her arms, but did not wake. He was such a good boy. She rested her nose on his forehead, enjoying the scent of the perspiration in his hair. Through thick and thin, Ashton was a happy, peaceful boy. Nothing could shake his mood. Well, nothing but his good for nothing father. But that was all behind them now. There was no way Bron even knew they had escaped, let alone followed them to Mars. Rubrum.
She stole a glance out the window. The black of space stretched on to infinity, but now a faint white orb loomed nearer. The moon. And beyond that, the man-made floating ring. Her breath quickened. Soon the ship would enter the worm jump. After a fierce warp through spacetime, they'd exit the other end and touch down on Rubrum, docking in New Oklahoma. Her freedom would begin. Her work would not end though. It was only just beginning, but her and her son's freedom would start. Really it had begun already, the moment she stuffed all of what little she owned in a backpack along with a few toys, a tablet, and one change of clothes for her Ashton and some diapers. She did not even have a change of clothes for herself. Just one extra bra. That was it.
But she was free.
She didn't feel free though. How could she? Cramped on a rusted old bucket of a space shuttle hurtling through the star-speckled black. It was a wonder this creaking metal transporter did not burst open and suck out all of the oxygen from their lungs, leaving them cold husks floating in an open grave forever.
She shook her head. Negative, sour thoughts were for Terra. She was a Rubrun now, or would be soon. But, she would die on Rubrum. There was no doubt about it. The finality of it shook her a bit. For someone of low class like her, the trip to Rubrum was one way, with no chance of ever getting off of the cold red planet. Many on Terra considered it a death sentence. Only the foolhardy and desperate optimists considered it a fresh start.
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Rubrum was not for the faint of heart, nor for the naysayer. It was for those that adopted a hard life in exchange for a lack of overlords. A lack of domineering governments, overreaching politicians, corrupt law enforcement, and domestic abusers. She told herself no lies. Life for the foreseeable future would be hard. Likely downright difficult. No doubt she'd shed fresh tears. But as long as she kept her son fed, heavy, and kept herself alive and got some semblance of sleep, she'd be alive. And free. So free. She could practically taste it.
Bron had been a good man once. But the weight of the world had crushed him. He'd gone down swinging, but the only people his fists reached were those nearest him, and not the corrupt system that he so loathed.
A muscled bald man draped in tattoos paced up and down the walkway. Underneath all of the ink he was quite an attractive man, and an ex-convict by the way he carried himself. Probably a byproduct of the Clean Slate bill that had been passed and renewed, giving Earth convicts a chance to wipe their record clean and start anew on Mars as unskilled laborers. After a probation period, they could apply for better paying jobs, become part of society again. Gain a fresh start.
She thought of Bron, so far away now. Maybe her love life could have a fresh start too.
Coraline flirted with the idea of finding another man on Mars. She pictured him perfectly as if she'd known him her whole life. A tall man with a square jaw. Lean muscled but strong from working in the dormant volcano quarries. Or perhaps a blue-collar oxygen treatment operator. He didn't even have to be that handsome. There was something attractive about a resilient self-made man that a good looking softy just could not compete with.
But that would never happen. If she was honest with herself, Coraline was quite through with men. Didn't trust them as far as they could piss, excuse her French. Except of course for her little Ashton. She'd make a fine man out of him yet. Nothing but opportunity lay ahead for him on Mars. And he was young enough that come time, many would think him a native born when he was grown. Coraline reckoned he'd have no solid memory of Earth. He would know Mars and only Mars.
The bot voice of the artificial captain blared over the comm system. "Everyone please fasten their harnesses and prepare for the warp jump."
Her and Ashton were already harnessed in place, but she double checked and tightened them, just in case.
This was it. Tears welled up in Cora's eyes and mingled with Ashton's sweat. Tears of sorrow for their pitiful state? Yes. Of joy at their freedom and potential future? Yes, of that as well. And of the finality of the upcoming warp. Once they entered, there was no going back. Emotions swirled like a vibrant nebula within her breast, but she bottled them up as best she could and released them in the form of kisses on Ashton's dreaming head.