Sunborn by Jeffrey Carver

food and drink. She swore when she found all three VR rooms occupied. She sat in silence watching two men play a game of EineySteiney; when the door to Room Three opened and one of the miners emerged, she jumped up to take his place. “Hey, if you’re in that much of a hurry for a good time—” he called, but she brushed past him and slammed the door without answering.
        Taking the center seat, she said, “This is Julie Stone. Show me my mail.”
        The room darkened partially, and a figure appeared, standing in a pool of light. It was a half-height image of Dakota Bandicut. Julie had never met the girl, nor spoken to her in real-time, but her appearance was striking. John Bandicut’s niece, now age twelve, had the same jaw line, the same eyes, the same intensity of expression as her uncle.
        “Julie? Hi. I can’t talk long, because Nan says it costs too much, so I’m paying for this with my own money.” She gulped, and for a moment seemed paralyzed by the need to speak quickly. “I just wondered...how you’ve been, and have you heard anything more about what happened to Uncle John? I’ve just been—you know—I don’t hear anything. There’s nothing on the news anymore, and the government hasn’t told us anything.”  Her face darkened visibly.
        It was all Julie could do to keep from crying out to the image. I know how you feel! I feel the same way! “Damn,” she whispered finally, “I wish I could meet you and tell you in person what John did. What I know  he did!”
        But she was just talking to herself. With a round-trip signal lag of eight hours, she couldn’t talk back to the holo, not in real-time. All she could do was listen, and compose a reply.
        “I got your letter. You wouldn’t believe how many people say Uncle John was lying—or crazy. I don’t believe any of them. I believe Uncle John. I know you do, too.” Dakota fidgeted, biting her lower lip. “Did I tell you about the college fund he set up for me? He didn’t even tell me about it, and no one told me about it until he was gone. I can’t even thank him for it! But now they’re saying, because he was—because they’re saying he was crazy, maybe it wasn’t legal, the way he set it up. I don’t understand it. And Nan won’t talk about it, she says I’m too young. Julie? You don’t think he was crazy, do you? Please say no.”
        Julie felt an anvil drop on her chest. It was all she could do to breathe. What’s the matter with you people? How can you do that to a twelve-year-old girl?  By the time she gasped out a pained breath, she realized that Dakota was saying good-bye.
        “Back up thirty seconds,” she commanded the system.
        She listened again to Dakota’s plea, and then a second plea—for Julie to get in touch again. “It’s not like I don’t have friends. But sometimes it feels like you’re the only one who understands, even though we’ve never met. Do you think, sometime, you...could come back to Earth and see me? I’ll be waiting to hear. I have to go now. Bye.”  Dakota’s image froze as the recording ended.
        Yes, Julie whispered to herself, eyes shut. Yes, I very much want to do that.
        She opened her eyes. Dakota was still there, a statue. “Yes,” she said softly to the still image. “Somehow. Someday...”
    *
        Emerging from the VR, Julie saw Georgia Patwell waving her over to a table. The sight of her friend raised her spirits; they hadn’t seen each other in days. “Am I glad to see you,” she murmured, sliding into the booth opposite Georgia. She yanked the privacy-curtain closed and slumped in her seat. “You wouldn’t believe this day.”
        “I heard they gave you quite the wringing out,” Georgia said. She extended a finger toward the ordering board and gave Julie an inquiring glance as her fingertip hovered over the draft beer button. Julie nodded emphatically, and Georgia pressed the button. She