“That’s…outrageous. Was Charles Moone unwell when he made this will?”
Mr. Binn sighed and shook his head. It was the first time even a hint of his thoughts bled through the professional facade. “When I met with him, it was via holo-call. However, I found him to be of sound mind and very clear in his wishes. He didn’t want his heir to profit from a sale of Moone’s Landing. He wanted it run by a member of the Moone family, and for that person to reside there.”
“I told you,” Mirth murmured. “Always a catch with Charles.”
“You knew about this,” Holly said to her mother.
Mirth sighed. “I read the will several weeks ago when Mr. Binn first reached out. This meeting was supposed to be me signing off on a buyer—theloweroffer. I was also to choose between three options for Charles Moone’s statue.” Holly’smother said the last three words from between clenched teeth. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly, clearly working hard to remain calm and balanced.
Holly had no such chill. “That’s the most shameful, passive-aggressive tactic I’ve ever heard,” she said. “All to punish Grandma for leaving.”
Mirth abandoned zen and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I don’t know his motives, but I imagine he never forgave her. Or me, I guess, even though I had no say in it.”
“I don’t blame her for leaving,” Holly said hotly. “If this was the kind of person he was.”
“Their marriage fell apart early on,” her mother replied. “I don’t remember him well, and what few memories I have of him are… He was never happy. Maybe he didn’t like being a father, or a husband—I don’t know. I’ll never know. What Idoknow is that there was a lot of arguing. It got worse and worse, until she left with me.” Mirth leaned her shoulder against Andrew, who put an arm around her. “I reached out to him numerous times—when Mom passed, when I married your father, when you were born, and others, but he didn’t respond. Not once.” She shook her head emphatically. “I have no good feelings about that place. I’m sorry, Holly, but Icannotmove there.”
“I…understand that.” Holly swallowed hard and her gaze fell to the images of the domed outpost. “But I donotwant to give Charles that statue.”
Holly’s mother let out a chuckle laced with tears. “Me neither, but those are his wishes.” She glanced at the drawings for the first time. “I remember it being beautiful there. Grandpa designed the town to feel like an old European plaza. There was also a forest and gardens. They must be even bigger and grander, now.”
And all of it would die. Since destroying the station would be costly and unnecessary, the new buyer would either sell offthe materials to a salvage rig or power it down and leave it. Air, lights, heat, and water would be shut off, leaving the vegetation inside to die, and an ugly, plastoid eyesore could be erected somewhere else on the moon.
Her mother’s hand rested again on her knee. “Holly,youhave no history with this place at all. You might be a good fit for Moone’s Landing.”
Instantly, Holly remembered that she stilltechnicallyhad a job. She recalled that she had not yet made a decision about the enhanced aesthetics program at Sol-Arc Industries and Beenan’s dangling carrot of maybe being moved from a level three to a level four. That was something she’d been working toward for over a decade. But this…
This was a decision that should not be made without deep, pragmatic consideration, andnoton the very same day she’d been placed on leave. More than anything, it wasdefinitelynot a decision that should be made to spite a dead man who wanted a statue of himself.
Holly’s mind spun with a thousand thoughts. All of them were conflicted and hopeful and expansive as ideas came that had never entered her head before.
“It wouldn’t be an easy job,” her mother said, watching her carefully. “In an earlier discussion, Mr. Binn informed me that Moone’s Landing has fallen into some disrepair over the years. My father did not manage it well. They lost quite a few residents, which is why there are only thirty-six left.”
Mr. Binn nodded. “That’s correct. The spaceport can only accommodate two ships at once, and nothing larger than midsize. There are multiple repairs and upgrades that are desperately needed, and staffing is an issue.”
“Is it possible to transfer ownership from me to Holly?” Mirth asked him. “If she’s interested, that is.”
“Since Holly is a direct descendent, and the will does not prevent it, it’s entirely possible,” Mr. Binn replied. “However, the clause remains in effect. If Holly were to sell, proceeds would go to the construction of Charles Moone’s statue.”
“How long does that clause remain in effect?” Holly’s father asked. “Surely not indefinitely.”
Mr. Binn’s fingers worked furiously on the pad. “Hmm. Yes. Ten years. After ten years, Moone’s Landing would belong to Holly with no qualifications. She could sell it after that point.”
But would she want to?
Holly felt a soft hand on her back as her mother peered at her with curious eyes. “Holly, do youwantto do this?” Mirth asked her.
Holly closed her eyes. Forty-two years old and she was considering giving up one of the most in-demand careers someone could have to operate a run-down space outpost. Her gaze fell on the images of the soaring crystal-plex structure out there on the far edges of civilized space. A sensible person would snatch up Sol-Arc’s enhanced aesthetics program offer and enjoy moving up in the twelve-rung system. That’s what a sensible person would do. A sensible person would say no.
Holly looked up at her parents and Mr. Binn, and took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Three
Holly was used to lightning-fast shuttles to and from the moon. Fifteen minutes, forty-fiveat mostif the destination was rotated on the other side of Earth and if there was a backup at the landing pads. But it took a fulleight daysto reach Lars-Vector-2, which was the official name of the moon her great-grandfather had purchased some two hundred years earlier. She had time to reflect during the journey, which relied on increasingly smaller and less well-appointed ships the farther into deep space she went.
The one she currently traveled on was a private shuttle operated by a pair of horned, identical twin, Penrian twin sisters who argued loudly in their native tongue and smelled like nectarines, which was odd, but not unpleasant. Holly was glad to not understand a word of their arguments. They spoke the standard galactic language to her and assured her that the intermittent vibration coming from the right rear thruster was perfectly normal. Holly was absolutely certain that it wasnot, but there was no changing ships now. They were nearly at her destination.
Moone’s Landing was the only place to stop before the long stretch of empty space that lay between habitable systems.One positive had been that the travel time had given her an opportunity to learn about Moone’s Landing. And to think.
