Page 30 of Paradise

It had taken a few months before Garrett had come around to the idea that his father actually did care about him, cared enough to take an indefinite leave of absence from the marines and stay at home with his damaged son and do everything he could to help him heal while still giving him the space to breathe. They’d started talking, just a little at first, but by the end of a year, Garrett could barely remember a time when his fatherhadn’t been with him and interested in him. Miles had gone back to the marines shortly afterward, but things between them had changed for good and for the better.

“I know that,” Garrett assured him. “You never pry. This is something I need your advice on, Dad, because I honestly don’t know what to do, and Jonah’s riding the edge of what he can take, especially with Cody in the infirmary.”

“Go on.”

Garrett plunged into the story. He told Miles about the first meeting with Kilroy in the bazaar, then recounted Jonah’s story of what had passed between him, Kilroy, and Jack in the second meet. He skipped over how he had been listening in because really, that had no real relevance to the situation at this point. He finished up by revealing Jonah and Cody’s situation with regards to Jack, Drifters, and the law, which was just as tangled up as Jonah had promised. Garrett had looked into it before coming to his father this morning, and … damn. The red tape was epic.

After he finished, they sat in silence for a long moment. Garrett watched his father closely, and as soon as he drew his index finger down the center of his lips, he knew the man had had an idea. Garrett had observed him deep in thought for decades, and he knew all of Miles’s tells.

“It seems that there are two separate problems here,” Miles said at last. “Kilroy and Jack are only vaguely connected to each other. Split their issues up and we can take a leg out from under both of their cases. Each of them is just using the other for leverage, after all. So we need a different sort of leverage.” He glanced back at the table and slid his glasses back on, peering at a few charts. “Hmm. Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Garrett demanded.

“We’ve had an influx in both capital and local population since the arrival of theGondola. It happens every time one of theirbig ships comes in. Drifters are a point of interest in a world as isolated as this one is, and since they’re seen as outside the normal Alliance infrastructure, people who otherwise wouldn’t be interested are willing to do business with them. Even knowing that a big percentage of the money changing hands is happening on the black market, it’s still a significant boost to the economy. More income makes for happier citizens, and that’s the sort of thing I want to encourage, coming out of a state of civil war.”

“But you know that a lot of what they’re dealing for is probably equipment that some people plan to use to fight you,” Garrett pointed out with a frown.

“True, but that’s not what the Drifters care about. They care about making the biggest profit they can in the time they have here. They steer clear of local politics.” Miles laced his fingers together and stared at the charts. “What I need to do is figure out how to incentivize them into doing things legally while still providing people with the opportunity to deal with them with an air of privacy.”

“You’re talking about creating a new layer of society?”

“More like providing the people of Paradise with a choice. It’ll start out as a fairly stark choice, them or us, but as time goes by, those lines will blur.

“Here’s the thing, Gare.” Miles pulled off his glasses and looked over at him. “There are still people here who hate the Alliance, hate us with everything they are. They don’t care that it was their government that originally petitionedusto come here and take them into the fold; all they see is the loss of their independence. There are a lot more people who are happy with us, but they’re afraid of rocking the boat because the rebels have proven themselves willing, over and over, to be indifferent to civilian casualties in the course of coming after us.

“It isn’t the rebels I care about, it’s the people who have to deal with them and are too afraid to come to us for help. Drifters provide them with a source of goods and information that can be seen as clean, in a sense. This Kilroy thinks I’m trying to make things harder for him, when in actuality, I’d be more than happy to have more Drifters make Paradise a common harbor as long as they’re willing to obey our laws, but the trouble is that they don’t stay long. The new problem becomes persuading Drifters to do more than a transient business here, which is a challenge because transience is literally a part of their name.”

“So you provide them with, what … legal status?”

“Immigrant status,” Miles clarified. “Giving them rights as transitory citizens of this planet. Offering them access to medical clinics, entrance into our education system, and the rest of the benefits that come with being licensed and legitimized. If a particular ship wants to leave for any reason, they can. If they want to come back, they can. I’m talking about finding Drifters a place in this society. I think it’ll do more than enhance the economy: it’ll broaden the horizons of a populace that’s been left behind as the rest of the inhabited universe moves forward.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “And frankly, Ihaveto do something because there isn’t a lot of clout in the Senate right now for improving the lives of member planets on the Fringe, but the need is stark.”

“You’ve thought about this before,” Garrett said, putting the pieces together. His dad was good, but this was a lot to come up with on the fly. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, haven’t you?”

“Ever since I woke up out of that coma,” Miles confessed. “Paradise is still sparking with rebellion just under the surface. I want to tamp that down, and I want to cut down on the percentage of illegal goods making it into circulation. One of the terms of any agreement with Drifters would be submitting theirshuttles to a search before they land. A thorough one, enough to detect skimmers and drugs and most weapons. It’ll be a delicate balance, but if I can get Kilroy Dechiara on my side and spreading the word to other Drifter ships, it will be a huge coup.”

Garrett smiled at his father. “You’re kind of smart, you know that?”

Miles laughed. “I’m surprised you’re not calling it my ‘aged wisdom.’”

“I can’t insult you before I hear what you think we can do about Jack.”

Miles shrugged. “He’s the easy half of this equation. I’ve got three lawyers in my corps here, and one of them specializes in family law. Even if Gunny can’t speak to all the issues, he’ll know someone who can. I’ll send for him as soon as his shift starts, and we’ll figure out what needs to be done to make sure Cody stays with you and Jonah.”

“You’re amazing.” Garrett finally let himself smile back. “I’m so impressed you’ve managed to avoid the dementia that plagues most of your generation.”

“Andthereis it,” Miles said sarcastically. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the snark, son.”

“I’m a fuckin’ chameleon,” Garrett agreed, feeling pretty perky in the wake of his father’s reassurance.

Miles looked at him a little strangely. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Why did people keep asking him that? “Just tired from lack of sleep.”

“You aren’t acting tired, you’re acting …” Miles reached out and laid a hand on Garrett’s cheek, then frowned when Garrett jerked away. “Have you been checking your levels?”

Levels? Levels, levels … what, hormone levels? His drug levels? His mood stabilizers? “Of course.” Ofcoursehe had been. He had used the med gauntlet, what, last week? Or maybe the week before? That was plenty recent. Somehow Garrettdidn’t think that his father would see it that way, though, since technically he was supposed to be using it every day when he traveled due to the additional stresses on his system.

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