by Wendy Mass
We are surrounded by STARS.
Since the sun doesn’t rise or set over Delta Z, night and day are relative concepts. When he took over, the commander chose to align our noon and midnight with the planet below us. To tell the difference, all the lights dim at night, and are on full blaze during the day. Since I can’t sleep due to my whole life apparently no longer existing, I’ve spent most of the last ten hours wandering the dark station and now the bright lights seem like a cruel joke. I’m currently shooting off virtual arrows into virtual targets because I can’t deal with going to real-life school today, no matter the consequences.
“There you are, Robin!” Will says, running up behind me. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I haven’t seen you for more than a few minutes since class yesterday.”
“I’d have thought this would be the first place you’d check.” Swoosh! I let an arrow fly. “Do you know I don’t have a last name?”
“Huh?” Will asks as my arrow hits the virtual bull’s-eye, as they almost all do. This game is probably rigged in favor of the player so we’ll keep feeding it tokens.
“I don’t have a last name,” I repeat. “You’re Will Stutely, Finley is Finley Harlon, Shane is Shane McAllister, and I’m Robin. Just Robin.”
Will doesn’t say anything for a minute, then blurts out, “Not so. You’re Robin of Locksley!”
I consider his answer, then shake my head. “That’s not a name; that’s a place.”
“Why can’t it be both?”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I tell him, reloading my quiver of virtual arrows. “I don’t exist anymore.”
“Did you stick your head out an airlock without a helmet? You’ve been acting very weird.”
So I tell him about the DNA results, and that quiets him down.
“But that’s crazy,” he says. “Of course you exist.”
“Do I?” I ask, only half kidding. “How do we know?”
“I could kick you in the shin. If you say ow, we know you’re real.”
“Okay, let’s assume you did that, and I passed the test. Why would all records of my family be gone?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but tell my dad and maybe he’ll have an idea.”
“He’s been through enough these last few days, and he’s busy trying to find the boxes.”
Will shakes his head again. “No, he got back in the middle of the night. He found them! They’re in quarantine!”
I turn off the game. “Quarantine?”
Will nods. “Apparently no one can get into the boxes, so they had to put them there in case they contain an unknown substance that could be dangerous. But that’s not all! The commander said you couldn’t have the boxes anyway. They don’t become yours until you’re seventeen.”
“Why? And how does he know that?”
Will shakes his head. “That’s what he told my dad, who’s at work now, by the way. He’s trying to make sure he doesn’t get fired and shipped off to Earth.” He gives a little shudder. “Probably better if we wait till his shift is over to ask about it, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’m not going to bother him. I’m going straight to the source.” Then I storm out of the arcade, which has started to fill up with early-morning patrons. I’m tired of people knowing things about my life that I don’t.
I’ve never been inside the quarantine room, which is all the way at the bottom of the spaceport. I have to pass by waste disposal on my way and make sure not to make eye contact with anyone through the window. I have a feeling after today they’re going to be my new best friends.
KEEP OUT is emblazoned over the quarantine room in big letters, which normally I would ignore, but something about the skull and crossbones painted on the door gives me pause.
I’ve heard stories about the shipments that have wound up in this room over the years. Things that slither, things that make fire, things that give off noxious odors. Those are sent right back off the station. The items that are questionable, have been mislabeled, or have no label at all are subjected to various tests. I’d really like to see what they’re doing to my boxes.
I knock. No answer. Well, no one can say I didn’t try. So I push open the door and let myself in. To my surprise, no one is in there. The lights are on, though, and I can see three different stations set up around the room. The Locksley boxes have been evenly divided among them. One table holds a tub of water, another an X-ray scanner, another has jars of fluid that say Poison, Do Not Ingest on them. The whole thing is creepy, and I don’t like being here. Perhaps I do need Uncle Kent to help me.
I start to back out of the room. I’ve almost reached the door when that most dreaded of contacts happens — the firm grip on the shoulder by a large, strong hand.
“Hello, Robin,” the commander says. “When your teacher reported you absent I figured I would find you here. Your uncle told me what happened with your parents, and I see you’ve found your boxes. Are you doing okay?”
Like I said, the commander is a pretty decent guy. I’m about to say something like Robin of Locksley is always okay, but instead I shake my head. “I’m pretty confused, actually. Maybe you can tell me why my boxes are being drowned and x-rayed and poisoned?”
He removes his hand from my shoulder. “Yeah, sorry about all this. But the packages didn’t come with the necessary paperwork. We have no idea of their origins. Allowing them to be opened without testing them would be irresponsible. Do you understand?”
“I guess.” I glance at the closest stack. “They’re all still locked, though?”
He nods. “They all require the same combination.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“We have no idea,” he admits. “Our assumption is that when you turn seventeen you will receive the code somehow.”
“Yeah, about that. Why do I have to be seventeen?”
To my surprise, he replies with “That’s what your uncle told me. Your parents apparently gave him that instruction.”
“Oh. So you haven’t gotten into any of them?”
He shakes his head. “No. Now let’s get you to class. I promise we’ll take good care of your belongings. And if everything is deemed safe, they will be returned to you. And if one of the locks happens to be loose and you happen to peek inside, well, I never saw anything.”
I give him a half smile, which is half a smile more than I’d been able to pull off since yesterday afternoon.
As the commander walks with me (or should I say, escorts me) back down the hall, I gather up the nerve to tell him about what Robo-teach’s experiment pulled up for me. I figure he’ll hear about it sooner or later, so it may as well be from me.
“What do you think it means?” I ask when I’m through.
His expression grows very serious. “I think it means that whoever erased the records of your family is trying to protect themselves. I think you should let them. Just put it all behind you and let it go.”
I nod, because I know that’s what he wants me to do. And because I think he’s right. My parents probably paid someone to wipe out the records of their lives after their deaths, not even thinking about how it might affect me. But they left in the first place without thinking of me, either, so why am I surprised?
“Stay here and collect yourself for a minute,” the commander tells me. “Then get up to school, okay?”
I nod. He starts to pat me on the shoulder when his watch buzzes and flashes red. “Commander here,” he says, then hurries off on official business and leaves me alone in the hallway. I take a few breaths, look around, and dart right back into quarantine. Like he said, I’ll put it all behind me — right after I get a look inside one of these boxes! I snatch the closest one — a medium-size box that was waiting to be submerged in water. I stick it under my arm and dash back out. It doesn’t matter that I can’t open it. Just having it makes me feel a little more in control.
When I get up to the Central Plaza, I’m surprised to see it’s full of people.
Last-minute dance party, maybe? But I don’t see the band. Led by Robo-teach, my classmates come filing into the large open area, all talking excitedly. Will and Malaya pull up the rear. I guess doing the DNA project together has brought them closer. I think they may even be holding hands, but there are too many people in the way to tell for sure. Kind of gross, if you ask me. Sounds sweaty.
I’m still trying to process why this place is suddenly so crowded when I realize people are all pointing and staring out the observation deck over my shoulder. I quickly turn and then inhale sharply. When I passed by here not that long ago, the only thing outside was the usual boring outer space, with its stars and planets too distant to see clearly. Now an enormous white object fills the entire view. It’s long and narrow and doesn’t look like any airship I’ve ever seen. Instinctively, I step back, like that’s going to do me any good if that thing plows into us.
Toby and Elan run over to me. “Do you see it, Robin?” Elan shouts even though I’m standing a foot away from him and my head is tilted back. He shouts again, “It’s HUGE!”
It really is huge. “What is it?” I ask.
Finley joins us, and Toby and Elan wait for him to explain. As annoying as he is, being the commander’s son means he can usually be counted on to know the latest news.
Finley meets my eyes and then glances away. Guess he’s still afraid I’ll gossip about his family’s less-than-stellar past. But his excitement over whatever that thing is outside overpowers his usual habit of insulting or ignoring me. “A passenger airship from Earth has sent a distress signal!” he declares. “They need to dock here, but they’re too big to approach nose-first like the regular ships.”
Elan jumps in with a whole explanation about torque and gravitational spin and other science-y things I don’t understand. All I know is that the giant ship has to match our orbit and then twist around until the grabbers can reach its mid-deck. Or something like that.
“What’ve you got there?” Toby suddenly asks. He’s pointing at the box under my arm. I’d actually forgotten I was carrying it! I try to twist my arm behind me, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all gathering around to get a closer look.
“It’s not important right now,” I insist, shoving it under a bench. “I’ll show you later.” I have no intention of showing any of them later.
The commander’s voice fills the air, and everyone’s attention thankfully turns toward the bridge of the command deck above our heads.
“As everyone can see, we have unexpected guests. Their ship is in need of repairs, but it isn’t expected to take long. A day or two at most. Still, I expect everyone to make the passengers feel at home.”
This announcement sets everyone chattering again. We’ve never, at least in my memory, had “guests” here. Any passenger ships would go to another spaceport — any other one. This ship must really be in a bad way or else there’s no way they’d choose us.
So basically no one wants to leave the plaza because we all want to see what’s about to happen. Even though I’m anxious to see if I can break into the box, I’m more curious about this ship. After another hour of the ship inching toward us, and a lot of banging and clanging, the commander announces that we’ve been able to connect to their mid-ship emergency escape hatch. A cheer rises from the crowd and we all stream out of the plaza to wait outside Shane’s garage, which is where they will be arriving.
I don’t know what kind of guests I’m expecting, but everyone around me is speculating that they must be super rich, or royalty even, if they’re flying in something like that. Some think it might even be Prince John himself. Even though we up here aren’t affiliated with any particular planet, being so close (relatively) to Earth, we’re aware of their political leaders. I’ve never seen a prince before, so that’d be pretty cool.
But when the passengers file down the entry platform, there doesn’t appear to be a prince among them, at least no one in a crown and flowing robes, which is how I picture a prince would look. Instead there’s an old guy in a wheelchair pushed by a tall, younger guy, followed by three kids around my age. They’re all wearing variations of white clothes (pure white, not at all green). One of the boys and one of the girls has brown skin, and the other boy’s skin is fair, but with more red to it than ours, the mark of a life lived where the sun shines. They all look a bit shell-shocked, carrying bags and suitcases. Wherever they were headed to in their fancy ship, I can’t blame them for being disappointed to wind up here.
A hoverbuggy whisks the two men away toward the medi-station. As the crowd parts to let them through, I catch sight of one last girl heading down the platform. She walks with more confidence than the rest, with her shoulders back and her head held high. She’s carrying two suitcases, one large, one small. Her gaze sweeps across the crowd, almost like she’s looking for someone. Without knowing why, I push through a few rows of people until I’m right up front. When her sharp blue eyes meet mine, a jolt runs through my body.
I’ve just met my person.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Or maybe it’s just me that’s out of sync, standing here in front of dozens of strangers, doing my best to pretend I have a pillow on my head like I was taught in etiquette class. I focus on keeping my gaze soft and steady and my expression pleasant, just as if I were being led into one of my parents’ fancy events. Inside, though, I’m shaking like a leaf.
Just an hour ago I was standing at the wall of the airship with my heart ready to leap out of my chest at the sheer jaw-dropping beauty of space. If I thought the glittering lights of The City were numerous, they were a spoonful of what we were speeding through. Only seeing my own face reflected in the glass surface with the image of outer space behind it made me accept this wasn’t a dream. I could have stood there forever if PJ’s voice hadn’t come over the speakers announcing we were making a pit stop to refuel.
Asher pulled himself away from the view to ask, “Why would we need to refuel already? We just left Earth a few hours ago. I mean, I know we’re traveling super fast, but still.”
The rest of us just shrugged. To be honest, I couldn’t really focus on something as mundane and ordinary as fuel. An entire universe that had previously been invisible to me was revealing itself with a show more spectacular than I could ever have imagined. I still knew it had been a mistake that I was selected for this journey, but I was now beyond grateful for the error.
Our acceleration slowed to a crawl a few minutes later and the lights dimmed. That was the first time I felt a flicker of concern. Instead of stars zooming past us, huge chunks of what looked like ice drifted by. They were far enough away not to cross our path, but it was still a bit unnerving. Then a huge round structure encircled with flashing lights appeared right in front of us. As we stared, two parallel red beams shot out into space, forming an odd kind of runway. Our ship made a half turn and adjusted course until we were lined right up with it.
Asher declared that the station we were floating toward was called Delta Z, and began rattling off details about the history of spaceports and how Delta Z is a particularly old one. “No passenger ship from Earth has docked there for over a hundred years,” he recited, like he was delivering a report to our teacher. “Not with much more modern facilities only a few light-years away.”
“We’re not in school anymore, Asher,” Sarena told him. “You don’t have to try to impress us with your knowledge and your big words.”
Asher swept a chunk of his blond hair out of his eyes. “That’s true,” he said, smiling with one side of his mouth. “I only need to impress you.”
“You wish!” Sarena shot back, rolling her eyes. But the corners of her mouth twitched up.
PJ ran into the room, barely glancing at us as he checked data on the tablet he was holding. “We’ll be hooking on in five minutes,” he announced. “I’ll need all of you to grab your suitcases and be ready to disembark.”
“Our suitcases?” Asher asked. “Why would we need our suitcases for a fuel st
op? And why do we need to refuel already, anyway? If we burn up fuel at this rate, we won’t reach Earth Beta for months.”
I finally started to pay attention. PJ hesitated, and I noticed his eyes were red, almost like he had been crying. I stepped forward and put my hand on his arm without thinking. Then I pulled it back, hiding my hand under my sleeve. People of my social status did not reach out and touch others, especially those we don’t know well. My cheeks began to burn. Sarena stepped in and asked him, “Are you all right, PJ?”
He shook his head. “We have a small crack in one of the fuel lines. We’re in no danger at this point, but the captain felt it would be best to repair it now, before we leave the sun’s orbit completely. At that point the autopilot will navigate to Earth Beta and it’s much more complicated to stop.”
“And?” Sarena prompts. “That’s not all, is it?”
He shook his head again. “It’s my grandfather. He tried to help by crawling into one of the maintenance tubes and got an electric shock. He’s … he’s not doing well. I need to take him to the medical station immediately when we dock.”
The expressions on all of our faces must have shown our confusion. Gareth spoke up first. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t his medi-bots mend any injuries?”
“The medi-bots are linked to the life support systems on Earth,” PJ said wearily. “They don’t work in space.” Now our surprise turned to alarm. “Don’t worry,” he quickly added. “They’ll be up and running again as soon as we get to Earth Beta.” He gave a small chuckle. “Try not to fall down any stairs till then.”
None of us laughed back.
PJ grew serious again. “I’m going back up to the control center to be with him. When you step onto that spaceport you’ll need to be on your best behavior; you’re representing our planet.” His eyes swept over us, lingering on Gareth. “As soon as we get to Earth Beta, you’re getting a haircut.”
