Dallas: #1.2
For all the sacrifices everyone made, the least Dallas could do was move Lucy and the girls out of that drab and desolate military base condo. Lucy had been miserable there. And maybe the girls wouldn’t know any better, but they would feel it when their mother was happier, so that was the most important thing.
Having them nearby had been great, but it wasn’t worth it to them when he still had to work ten-hour shifts and hardly saw them before bedtime, anyway. They had nothing to do in these gray mountains and no other families to play with, since the last of the troops who had any children here also moved his family to the city. It’s okay, nobody blamed him. So Dallas would just do the same.
He traded in his family housing allowance for a standard-issue bedroom in the barracks and sent his family off to Copperdale to live in civilian normalcy. He would stay on base a few nights a week and call home to say goodnight. Then they could have all of his time on the weekends. Lucy would have his mother there to help during the week.
And his commitment to the Cassiopeia project was valued deeply. He had to sit for a formal interview for the senior engineer position, even though he was the best engineer they had. It was a formality, but Dallas won the promotion, anyway. The shirt and tie didn’t hurt. Who didn’t love more money and all those cushy government benefits? Who didn’t love having a happy wife at home who didn’t need to worry about him leaving the planet?
Dallas had never been to the moon. He was just the guy who built the rockets that took people to the moon. He also built the rockets that took troops to the bases on Mars and Europa. Dallas was as curious as anyone about space, but he had always been a good boy. He did what he was told, and he was not told to go up to space.
It was wild to think they would get back to space tourism again someday. The way it used to be, when space was fun and families dreamed of the moon like they dreamed of a trip to Disneyland. Dallas couldn’t wait to take his girls up there when the time was right.
But it would take years to repair the damaged infrastructure that supported the civilian lunar tourism industry. The corporations all wanted that ball rolling again, and that was good news for Dallas. It meant more engineering work outside of the ISCA, and hopefully that meant working closer to their new home in a couple of years. He was signed on to see the mission set off for Cassiopeia next year, and then he’d be free of military obligation. Many of his friends had already found work in the private sector, and he would likely do the same.
But for the next fifteen months, the long commute would suffice. He felt like he was home often enough that he didn’t miss out on all the big milestones.
Eris even saved her blowouts for him.
— you can never go home, Dallas #1.1
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