And then Riston’s posture went rigid. “Umm…Captain?” Riston’s voice shook, and so did Cira’s hands when she noticed. “I have an update on our position.”
Unlike the slow ripples of silence that had spread out from Riston in other moments, this time it overtook the bridge in a flash. Even Erryla stopped midsentence to focus on zem. She turned and closed in on Riston’s station. “Is any of it good news?”
Cira wished she was close enough to reach out to zem when, for an instant, Riston looked scared to the point of passing out. “N-no, sir.”
“Then give me the bad news,” Erryla said heavily.
“I, uhh.” Riston cleared zir throat and began again. “I started with the relative position of the cataloged pulsars we could trace, and according to my calculations…we’re well over ninety-five thousand light-years away from Paxis.”
“Ninety-five thousand?” Ma’s usual control was gone. Horrified incredulity filled every word. “I knew we’d gone far, but… Are you sure?”
Riston nodded. “Yes, sir. From what I’ve gathered, we’re barely inside the boundaries of the Milky Way.”
In the moment that followed, the loudest sounds in the room were the pings of incoming alerts and the sniffs as several of the crew lost the fight to hold back tears. Cira couldn’t cry. Her throat tightened, but tears wouldn’t come. That would change eventually, after reality had sunk in or after she’d finally gotten some real sleep instead of trauma-induced unconsciousness. The pit that would try to capture her then would be nearly impossible to climb out of if she let herself fall too far. But that would only come later.
“Ninety-five thousand light-years. And that’s assuming we could travel in a straight line,” Erryla said. “Am I right in assuming a straight path isn’t possible because of the galactic center?”
“Yes, sir.” Riston tried to enter a command. When it didn’t work, ze closed zir eyes, bit zir lip, and tried again, slower. A map of the galaxy appeared on the bridge’s main display. “The jump literally put us on the opposite end of the galaxy from where we were.”
Cira closed her eyes. The burn of impending tears got worse. With the mass of the black hole at the center between them and home, they’d have to go around it and every other obstacle in their path. All several million of them, if Cira had to guess and round down.
Although, it probably didn’t matter. Every route would mean decades of travel before they reached even the outer edges of occupied space, and that was without taking into account period stops for repairs or gathering supplies from habitable planets. So much could change by the time they returned. The way the war had been going recently, there might not be much of an occupied quadrant left.
The whole situation made her current role more important and more precarious. She couldn’t act with her own goals in mind anymore. Every action each person took from this point forward would have immediate consequences. Something as simple as not starting a water ration early enough could kill in a situation like this. One wrong decision could begin a chain reaction that cascaded out of control faster than anyone could stop. Just like the one that had landed them out here in the first place.
An alert rose in the holofield above her display, the yellow bright against a field of blue. It captured her attention and got her hands moving again. Something was out there, but the computer wasn’t sure what. It was compiling information on composition estimates, distance, volume, and size and comparing that data to a record of every ship and celestial body humanity had ever encountered.
Probable Match: Pax Feris
Certainty: 62.3%
Of all the emotions she expected to tip her over the edge, relief wasn’t it, and yet the words hovering in front of her began to blur as tears gathered. The certainty percentage was so much lower than she was used to seeing from the computer, but given where they were, it was unlikely that the computer could be wrong.
“Sensors found a ship at the outer limit of their range.” Cira wiped her eyes with her left hand and tried reaching for a display command with her right. She winced as something in the elbow of her cybernetic arm sparked. Stars, as soon she had the chance, she really had to get Mama and Adrienn to fix whatever had broken in her arm. Gritting her teeth against the sharp glints of pain traveling up into her shoulder, she turned the chair and completed the command with her left hand. “The computer is over sixty percent certain it’s Pax Feris.”
“Botran.” Relief lightened Erryla’s words. Someone was out there. “Is Pax Amitis in range?”
“No.” Cira couldn’t force the sensors to be better or reach farther, but she scanned, and reset, and scanned, and reset, and scanned, and—“Nothing. There’s…there is absolutely nothing else here. Without any real reference points, it’s hard to even know where ‘here’ is.”
But wherever they were, they’d better figure out how to keep the ship in one piece because it would be a long, long time before any of them walked familiar ground again.
Personal Correspondence
From: Ensign Terris Amalda, Pax Dignis
To: Wide-beam broadcast; open channel, open network; all connections accepted
Terra-Sol date 3814.283 (estimated)
Hello?
[silence]
Hello? Is there anybody out there?
[silence]
Please, if anyone is reading this, if anyone can help us, we’re here. We’re alone, and we need help. Our chronometers aren’t reliable anymore, but it feels like we’ve been floating out here for weeks already. It can’t be that long—the measured depletion of our ration stores prove that much if nothing else—but it doesn’t keep it from feeling like we’ve been caught out here, and the fact that they’ve stopped caring what kind of messages we send out or who we’re trying to reach isn’t exactly a good sign. I mean, we survived an intragalactic jump that we all thought was impossible, and we thought that would be the end of it. We were alive and the rest could be dealt with as it happened. The longer we go without contact, though…
The crew starts getting jumpy after a normal long-haul run. This one doesn’t have an end any of us will see in our lifetimes unless someone cracks the program that got us here in the first place. Everyone was hopeful about that plan at first, but that faded faster than a spark in vacuum. They seem to be resigning themselves to spending the rest of their lives in the confines of this fucking ship. Maybe it’s because I was born on Paxis instead of on a ship, but it’s like I’m the only one who—
[silence]
I just…
[silence]
I just want to go home.
System searching for receiver… Searching… Searching…
[silence]
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Acknowledgments
Although each of my series has had a unique origin point, I never expected Pax’s. Even looking back on it, I’m not entirely sure how a Twitter comment about wanting a queer retelling of Friday Night Lights turned into a science fiction trilogy, but it did, and I have Kate Brauning to thank for it. Not only was it her tweet that sparked the conversation, but also it was her guidance that helped me build the foundation for the series and find it a home faster than any story I’d created before. Kate, thank you, and I hope you like how it all turned out!
My editor, Lydia Sharp, came into Pax’s life cycle by chance, and I am extremely grateful for the enthusiasm with which they jumped into the process. Thank you for helping to make the transitions of the past few years so seamless and for all your support.
Thanks go to Dr. Daniel Whiteson for not only co-writing We Have No Idea, a physics book that is humorous, informative, and shockingly understandable for a layperson like myself, but for also being willing to respond to the really random email I sent asking questions about wormholes and particles. The science in my universe isn’t real. Hopefully, however, your advice helped me at least make it consistent.
I wouldn’t have gotten through the writi
ng and editing of this book or whipped it into the shape it’s in without Bethany Robison and Cait Greer. They have always been willing to offer notes, encouragement, advice, or simply a willing ear for me to vent to. I’m so grateful to you both for being part of my life.
Most of the time, a good agent ends up being part manager, part advocate, and part therapist, and Eric Smith has definitely played all those roles for me since I first emailed him about a sprawling story set in space. I’m so lucky to have him and P.S. Literary in my corner!
The rest of #TeamRocks has been a source of inspiration and support for years now. I adore being able to call these people my friends. Thanks for being awesome, Mike Chen, Rebecca Phillips, Rebecca Enzor, Helen Corcoran, Julia Ember, Jill Baguchinsky, Tiana Smith, Kayla Ancrum, Tom Ryan, Adam Sass, Erin Madison, Erica Boyce, Dave Connis, Lindsey Smith, Nita Tyndall, and Olivia Chadha.
And, as always, thank you to the entire Entangled team, many of whom I have never been able to meet in person but who are always willing to do whatever they can to help make a book fly. To everyone who touched this book along its path from draft to publication, you’re fantastic. Thank you.
The final but most important thanks goes to everyone who picks it up after it leaves my hands. This story belongs to you now, and I can only hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading it. Please feel free to recommend it to everyone you know.
About the Author
Erica Cameron is the author of books for young adults including the Ryogan Chronicles, the Assassins duology, and The Dream War Saga. She also co-authored the Laguna Tides novels with Lani Woodland. An advocate for asexuality and emotional abuse awareness, Erica has also worked with teens at a residential rehabilitation facility in her hometown of Fort Lauderdale.
Also by Erica Cameron…
The Ryogan Chronicles
Island of Exiles
Sea of Strangers
War of Storms
Assassins
Assassins: Discord
Assassins: Nemesis
Laguna Tides
Taken by Chance
Loyalty and Lies
Dealing with Devalo
The Dream War Saga
Sing Sweet Nightingale
Deadly Sweet Lies
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Pax Novis Page 36
