“Finding your wife,” I reply.
I prop him up on a chair and attempt to use Rowan’s ID card to access the cameras.
“This ID is out of use,” the computerized voice says. “The user of this ID card is deceased. Please try a different ID card.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I scream at the computer.
“Try mine,” Eli mutters. “It’s in my chest pocket.”
I open the pouch and grab his ID card. Then I hold it against the scanner and wait for it to read the card.
“Welcome Eli,” the computerized voice says again. “Please enter your code.”
“220331,” Eli replies.
“Access granted,” says the computer. “What would you like to see?”
“Andrea Parker, code name 220332,” Eli commands.
After a few seconds, the computer registers a location. Then a map pops up and gives the exact coordinates of where she is. Then the camera zooms in on her and picks up an audio sensor.
“… be back by three,” she says. “Your father will be home by then.”
“Bye Mother,” one of the children says.
A door slams shut. The woman, who I assume to be Andrea, lifts a small child into her arms and cradles him. She starts singing softly into the child’s ear, rocking him gently back and forth in her arms. I notice a few scars on her arms and face, most likely from the beatings she endured.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eli start to rise in his seat. “Can you rewind the video?” he asks.
I search the control panel and find a rewind button. The video bounces back a few seconds, stopping on an image of Andrea handing the older child a small bag.
“Make sure you eat all of it,” she says to the child. “No wasting like yesterday.”
“Yes Mother,” the girl says.
“And promise me you’ll be back by three,” she says. “Your father will be home by then.”
“Pause the video,” Eli says, his voice rough and strained.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Didn’t you hear what she said?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “She wants her to eat her food and be back by three.”
“Why does she want her back by three?” he asks, trying to make a point.
“How would I-” I turn my head back to the video fast. “Oh. She’s not talking about you, is she?”
“Bingo,” he says quietly.
I stare at him in complete silence. His jawline goes slack, his eyes vacant. He begins to slip away from the chair. I stand up fast and help prop him up again. The look in his hollow, dark eyes is enough to make me believe the bullet wound in his lower torso is nothing compared to what he just heard.
“Hey,” I say gently. “It’s going to be alright. Maybe she tells her children that so they think you’re coming back.”
“Do you even hear yourself,” he asks harshly. “Can you look me in the eyes and honestly tell me that she’s talking about me?”
“Well…”
“Right,” he says. “Didn’t think so.” Then he winces.
“Let me help with your wound,” I say. “At least that way I can be useful.”
“What’s the point?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“The only reason I’ve been fighting this hard to stay alive was so I could go back and see her, see them,” he says. “But you heard what she said. She’s moved on. There is no reason to go back.”
“Obviously you don’t love her then,” I say.
“What do you mean? Of course I do.”
“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you would be doing everything in your power to get back to her, no matter what you heard on that recording. For the longest time, I thought Daniel would never love me the way I loved him.”
“Who’s Daniel?”
“But I was always there,” I say ignoring him. “I stood by his side even when he told me there was someone else he loved. Turns out he was messing with me, but that’s besides the point. Ever since I made the sacrifice to stay here and let them be free, I’ve been fighting my way back to him. And I will keep on fighting until the last breath in my body escapes from me. Because I love him. I always have, and I always will.”
Saying it out loud scares me because it makes it true. It makes me feel vulnerable, in a way that both terrifies and excites me. The feeling that’s pounding in my chest is so different from any other feeling. Different than when I was with Kelton and different than when I was with my mother, my father, and even Kyle. It’s something brand-new. And only now, after saying it out loud, do I feel its truth rising in my chest.
I turn to Eli. “Let’s go,” I say. “And don’t argue with me.”
He stares at me blankly but doesn’t say anything. I help him to his feet, wrapping my arm once again around his waist as he drapes his arm across my shoulders. I log out of the computer and leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me. We make our way to the end of the hall and almost to the elevators until I feel a heavy tug on my left side, one that almost drags me down. Eli collapses to the floor next to me, his arm gripping my shoulder hard. I slowly lower him to the floor, carefully removing my left arm from around his waist.
“I can’t,” he says quietly. He takes in a sharp breath.
“You have to,” I say and try picking him up.
“No,” he says gripping my forearm. “I can’t make it any further.”
A tear slips down my cheek, though I don’t exactly know why. Even though his story is similar to mine, I did just meet him. “Eli…”
“Tell her I… I love her,” he says before sinking to the floor and the last breath in his body escapes.
I rest my head on his chest, sobbing. The source of my grief is dead. I should be grateful. But all I can think about is how he is taking lives from beyond the grave. Eli should be alive; I should have killed Kelton when I had the chance. Eli took a bullet for my ignorance. That is something I will never be rid of. Unless I fulfill his dying wish.
I run back to the Documentary and Surveillance room and enter Eli’s code. Thankfully the codes always work, unlike the ID cards. I click on Personal Information and scroll down to find his address. According to the database card, it says his wife and children have moved to a planet on the South side of the galaxy called Juema, which is known for their agriculture and gardens. I check the address and print out a copy. I double-check to make sure the information is correct and fold the paper to fit inside my pocket. Hopefully she doesn’t move by the time I get out there.
I shut the door to the Documentary and Surveillance room once again and make my way back down the hallway to where I left Eli. His body is no longer there, but a note lies where the body should have been. I pick it up, hesitant, and begin reading.
“I’m sorry to hear about Eli. He was an excellent soldier with a good head on his shoulders. I’d always hoped he would go far in life. I hope you accomplish his final desire as I know he would do the same for you. Since you can’t exactly walk to the home of his wife and children, there will be a ship ready for you in hangar 22. The keys are in a small black box in the back of the ship. I know you know what to do. Also, in the black box you will find a paper with a list of numbers. Each one represents a person in your family, including Daniel. If you ever wanted to check up on them, you can find many Codereaders throughout the galaxy. You’ll know what to do when you find one. Best wishes.”
I know exactly who the letter is from, and it’s hard for me to think I may never see him again. But he left me a ship, and that is something I won’t pass up. I fold the note, stick it in the same pocket as the address sheet, and take off running.
Hangar 22 is on the main floor of the building, behind the primary runway. It’s a smaller hangar that only about two ships would fit in it. However, only one sits in it now. The ship is small, easily maneuverable. It reminds me of the ship I used to train in with Daniel before I officially became his copilot.
I
remember one day when he was trying to teach me how to land on the runway without scraping the wheels. I was getting frustrated since he could do it so perfectly and I kept failing. He would show me and then let me try it for myself. I focused so much on trying to land better than him that I almost crashed during one of my landings. Daniel gripped the armrests on his seat so hard his knuckles turned white.
“You need to focus,” he told me.
“I’m trying,” I said, my frustration edging into my voice.
“I meant focus on actually landing the ship,” he said. “I can tell you’re focused on something else.”
“Well, yeah,” I said flustered. “I’m focusing on landing as perfectly as you did.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had years of experience,” he explained. “You’ve had a week. The landings will become smoother the more you practice, but don’t expect to get things right on the first try. Focus on one thing at a time.”
I took off from the runway again, turned the ship around, and tried to land it again. The landing was smoother but not anywhere close to perfect. However, instead of getting frustrated, I just tried it again and again, until the landing was so smooth you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference from flying and hitting the ground. Daniel congratulated me and told me I was ready to fly by myself. My smile dropped.
“Oh,” I said disappointed. “So that’s it.”
He put his hand on top of mine, which was resting on the armrest. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “I forgot to mention that part.”
He smiled, which was enough to light up an entire planet. A slow smile crept across my face. Thinking back, I think that was the first time I realized he was more than just a crush to me. I liked him as more than just my flying partner, my friend. He wasn’t even my best friend at this point, more of an acquaintance. Somehow I knew, though, that from that moment on, things between us would never be the same.
Gregory left me a really nice ship. I open the side door that leads into a somewhat spacious cockpit. The ship looks to be an older model but still nicer than any of the ones I’d ever flown or copiloted. I maneuver my way to the back of the ship and find the black box Gregory told me about in the note. Inside are the keys he promised along with a folded piece of paper. I take them out and return to the front of the ship, inserting the keys in the ignition. The ship starts with a grumble and coughs to life.
I fish the piece of paper with Eli’s wife’s address out of my pocket and replace it with the list of numbers Gregory left. I enter the coordinates of her address into the ship’s database and autodrive takes over. The ship soars down the runway and takes off almost as smooth as I can. I sit back in my seat and begin to feel free for the first time in weeks.
I must have fallen asleep. I wake up to a bumpy landing that jostles the ship around. I grab the controls and straighten it out, something I learned from Daniel. I look outside the front window and notice I’ve landed at the small, run-down landing strip on Juema. I was here one other time on a mission. When Daniel told me we would go on missions sometimes, I expected them to be thrill-seeking adventures. Taking down the Corps, rescuing someone. I was wrong. Their term “mission” literally meant “errand.”
Juema has never had enough resources to fix up anything on their planet. Everyone was too focused on making sure there was enough food to go around. The houses were all average in size and had yards stretching for acres. Almost everyone farmed or gardened. The planet as a whole was quaint; people would retire here when they weren’t able to do anything else. It was warm year round, great for growing season. A majority of the population was elderly or people with larger families. And since Juema wasn’t taking sides in the war, it was peaceful all throughout the planet.
The hangar the control guard directs me to is small and falling apart. One of the stilts holding up the roof is tilted, and grass grows in between the cracks in the sidewalk. I park the ship under the wooden roof, remove the keys from the ignition, and hop out the door in the middle of the ship.
The air smells clean and refreshing. The breeze brushes my hair away from my face. It’s chilly but not cold. The trees rustle with the wind, the leaves falling and moving every which way. It’s so calm, so unlike Vulcona, so unlike the past few weeks that I don’t move. I don’t want this moment to end.
“The next airbus will be leaving in five minutes. Please make your way to the station,” a recorded voice says through the overhead speakers.
I walk over to the control booth which regulates traffic flow. A guard is working there, his head bent over a booklet containing numbers and locations.
“Excuse me,” I say. He looks up at me. “Does this airbus go to the Northeastern Ward?”
“Let me check,” he says turning from his booklet to the computer on his left. I wait a few seconds, taking in the breeze. “Looks like it doesn’t, but there is one leaving for the North Ward in ten minutes. You can take that one and catch another one that goes to the East.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” I say. “I’ll just wait.”
He nods and goes back to hovering over his booklet. I take a seat on a bench near the airbus lane and pull out the list of names and numbers Gregory left me. There’s no other context next to the numbers, which will force me to find a Codereader. They most likely will have one at either the capital building or the Agricultural and Science Center.
The airbus pulls up a few minutes later and I hop on. Three other people sit in the car, each one holding a small tablet. I take a seat in the far back and wait for my stop to come.
I’m nervous about meeting with Eli’s wife. She might not even be home, but I have to try. She needs to know what Eli’s last words were. Maybe she’ll be relieved to hear he’s passed. Maybe she’ll be upset. I wonder if she’ll remember me. I get more nervous as each stop comes and goes. Two more left before I get off. One stop.
The doors open minutes later, cold breeze filling the car. I step out onto the platform and feel a rush of wind behind me as the airbus leaves the station. I make my way over to the other lane where an airbus should show up and take me East to the Northeastern Ward where she lives. The airbus shows up about a minute after I get to the lane. This time, the car is fuller, and I end up sitting next to an older woman carrying a woven basket with fresh food. She looks at me and smiles.
“Where are you headed to,” she asks.
“I’m visiting a… a friend of mine’s wife,” I respond.
“A friend?” she clarifies.
“Yes,” I say. I’m not exactly sure what Eli was to me. More than an acquaintance, but I’m not sure friend is the right word.
The woman hands me something from her basket. “Here,” she says. “Take this. Never show up empty handed at someone’s house if they invited you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I just got here this morning, so I haven’t had much time to shop.”
“Oh how nice,” she beams. “Where did you travel from?”
“I live on Coreno, but I went to Vulcona for… work,” I respond.
“For work?” she asks, tensing up a bit. “Like with the Corps?”
“Actually,” I say with a laugh to help ease her. “I’m working against them.”
“Oh, wonderful,” she says, her bright tone back. “We don’t like to engage in war here. Peace is what we enjoy most. I think I enjoy it more than most people. You see, I used to live on Dquartis, and as you probably know it’s not a peaceful planet. So I left. I met my husband here. Great life, great kids. Couldn’t imagine anything better.”
Dquartis was taken over by the Corps a few years ago and has remained under their control ever since. Most of the children who are born there grow up and learn to fight from a young age. A lot of the Corps’ soldiers are born and bred there. Almost like robots, they’re trained to kill anything and everything that opposes the Corps.
“That is a much different scene,” I say.
She nods. “I didn’t hate it there, but it wasn’t exactly the li
fe for me. I’ve never been a fan of violence.”
“Did you participate in any of the training notions they offer over there?” I ask.
“A couple,” she responds. “Although it isn’t like what you’ve heard I’m sure. Dquartis is viewed as a dark, grim, war-hungry planet. Not all of the training sessions are about killing. I took a survival class; it was pretty interesting.”
The airbus stops and the woman begins to stand up. “I’m afraid this is my stop,” she says. “It was nice talking to you. Oh, I never did quite catch your name.”
“Zandrea,” I say. “What’s yours?”
“Mauve.” She scoots around me and slips off the airbus. For being an older woman, she sure moved swiftly.
The airbus takes off again; this time the car is empty except for a man sitting three rows in front of me. A computer sits on his lap, although he doesn’t look at it. Instead, he taps furiously on the small tablet he holds in his hands. Then he picks the tablet up and puts it to his ear.
“How could you let this happen?” the man yells into his tablet. “How could you let her go?” He waits a few seconds before transferring the tablet between his shoulder and ear and types something into his computer. Suddenly, my name and face appear on his screen.
He begins talking again. “Well, how did she know there were keys in there? Is she a spy?” Then I see the case protecting his tablet. The Corps’ symbol. He works for the Corps. And he’s searching for me.
The next stop is still far away. Eli’s wife lives very far into the country. I’m debating whether I should get off at the next stop even though it’s still too far from Eli’s wife’s house or if I should just play things cool and hope he doesn’t notice me when he stands up all of a sudden. He closes his computer, puts it in his case, and moves over near the door. He’s still talking on his tablet.
“I would fire you, but you’re too valuable to the company,” he says to whoever is on the other end of the line. “You know I was supposed to go home to see my wife this week. Somehow we got lucky with where she landed.”
My stop is next. So is his. I’ll wait until the next stop and backtrack.
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