by Kylie Chan
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
About the Author
Also by Kylie Chan
Copyright
1
‘Corporal Jian Choumali.’ The base commander flipped through a paper file on his desk, then glanced up at me. ‘Take a seat, Corporal.’
‘Sir.’ I saluted, then perched uncomfortably on the hard plastic chair across the desk from him. The commander was a throwback to the old school: white, male, straight, educated, and oblivious. He’d never spoken to me before, and I doubted he even knew I existed before now. It must be serious for me to be in his office, although I couldn’t recall any major recent infractions. The current cohort of recruits were no worse than usual, and as far as I knew Sar-Major wasn’t pissed at me. I raised my chin, ready to take whatever he was about to throw at me.
‘Exemplary record,’ he said, almost to himself, as he flipped through the file. ‘Only twenty-four years old and already assisting Sergeant-Major Shirani to train the new recruits. Half-African, half-Chinese. Perfect.’
I opened my mouth to correct him that I was Welsh, not African or Chinese, but let it go when he leaned his arms on the file and smiled at me, making me even more uneasy.
‘What do you know about the Nippon Maru, Corporal?’
‘Everyone knows about it. They’re two years out from Kapteyn-b, and close enough to do a thorough scan. It came back positive. They’ve confirmed that the planet is habitable. We received the message last week.’
I was surprised at the turn of the conversation, then felt a bolt of excitement at the implications. The whole world had been watching the Japanese generation ship’s regular transmissions as it made its dramatic three-hundred-year interstellar journey to the colonisation planet. The oldest occupants of the ship were the tenth generation to be born aboard, and were lauded as heroes on Earth. Their messages were full of determination to make the project succeed.
‘Nobody believed they could do it,’ the commander said, closing the file. ‘But it looks like they made it.’
‘So we’re sending a ship now?’ I said.
The commander eyed me piercingly and I winced. I had to resist the urge to display more intelligence than my carefully crafted ‘dumb grunt’ persona. The last thing I needed was attention from the higher-ups.
‘What have you heard about this, Corporal?’ he said sternly.
‘Nothing more than what’s on the network. But you just said I’m perfect. I’m mixed race, I’m smart and young, and as you said yourself, I have an exemplary record.’ I leaned forward to sense his emotions more closely. ‘Are you asking me if I want to go on the Spirit of Britannia?’
‘How on earth do you know that’s what it’s called, girl?’ he said, aghast.
Girl? What public school had produced this dinosaur? I opened my mouth to say something about racism and sexism, and slammed it shut. It was a waste of time explaining any of that to Commander Oblivious if the compulsory awareness training hadn’t changed his attitude.
‘Nippon Maru means Spirit of Japan,’ I said. ‘Spirit of Britannia is the obvious choice. Ten pounds says the North Americans are working on a ship called the Uncle Sam or the Bald Eagle.’
‘George Washington, actually. You owe me ten pounds.’
‘I’ll present it to you after my next pay,’ I said.
‘So, Choumali?’ The commander pushed a manila envelope across the desk to me. The use of paper was a loud indicator of its high-level security. ‘The ship lifts off in two years; we need to move before the Chinese do and claim Wolf 1061, the closer planet, otherwise the journey will take twenty-four light-years, to Gliese 667, instead of fourteen. Getting to Wolf 1061 first will save us a hundred and fifty years. Say yes to this mission and you’ll be a heroine, lauded and worshipped until you go.’
‘Am I being ordered?’
‘No. It’s an offer. There are disadvantages – apart from the obvious ones of living the rest of your life on the ship. The Nippon Maru lost half its population in transit, so reproduction will be strictly controlled on the Britannia. During the voyage you will be inseminated with two children from two different fathers.’
That shook me – I’d never thought of having children. This was a huge opportunity though. What would Mum think? She needed me.
I looked the commander in the eyes as I pushed the envelope back to him. ‘My father is dead; there’s only me and my mother. I can’t leave her.’
‘She will be compensated handsomely for your pioneering spirit. She will receive five million new pounds a year for the rest of her life.’
My breath left me for a moment – five million a year? – then I pulled myself together. ‘Is that how much a human being is worth?’
‘If that human being is you, then yes.’
‘Then why aren’t I being paid more now?’ I said, deliberately baiting him to give myself time to think. Would five million a year be compensation enough for losing me? I’d have to ask Mum about it …
‘Because right now you’re not a representative of His Majesty’s Royal Army on a generation ship headed to Wolf 1061. You’re just an infantry corporal with a bright career ahead of you.’
I only half-listened to his reply. I was thinking of my mother’s reaction. More importantly – did I want to go? The reply came thundering through the core of my being. Hell yeah!
‘I need to speak to my mother about it,’ I said.
The commander waved one hand over the envelope. ‘There’s a week’s leave for you in there.’
‘How many other soldiers on the base are you offering this to? If too many of us accept, will you make us compete for places?’
‘You’re the only one on the base, Choumali. We’re being extremely selective in this first round. The second round may be more competitive.’
I felt a quick rush of concern that the army knew my secret, but the commander wasn’t projecting the edginess that most people did in the presence of a telepath. He didn’t know.
I picked up the manila envelope and stood. ‘I’ll let you know in a week, sir. Thank you for the offer.’
He rose and held his hand out, and I shook it, dazed at the suddenness of the whole thing.
‘I’m honoured to offer this to you, Corporal Choumali. You – and other young people like you – are the hope for Euroterre’s future. Do us proud.’
The train thundered out of the tunnel and the wind slammed into the side of my carriage. Rain gushed down the windows, and people changed to drier seats as it entered the carriage through the degraded seals. Mist poured out of the ceiling vents as the air-conditioning system fought the increased heat and humidity.
The rails ran on a causeway through what had once been the green centre of England but was now the sea. Mum lived in a small village
halfway up the mountains of Old Wales, where people struggled to maintain a subsistence lifestyle. My salary helped her to retain comforts most of her neighbours couldn’t afford. I rested my head on the rattling window and thought about what she could do with five million new pounds a year. She could pay for the paperwork to live with our extended family on that. China was rich and green where the land was above water. Mum could follow her heart and help support her sisters and their children, and never have to worry about food again.
And I’d be travelling to the stars. I would never see the end of the journey, but my great-great-something-grandchildren would have a whole new pristine planet to live on. I fingered my bag containing the envelope. Of course, if Mum didn’t want me to go, I wouldn’t.
I glanced out the window and saw my mother’s eyes in my reflection. My eyes, with their epicanthic fold, were the only Asian part of me; the rest was one hundred per cent my African-heritage dad. He was tall, lean and muscular, with dark skin, a wide nose and full mouth. I had his hair as well, a black frizz cropped close in a military standard cut. When I was a child everybody had said that I was definitely his, as if there was any doubt when they saw my parents together.
The train slowed as it reached the base of the mountains and went from travelling over water to land. It stopped at the first station and a few people left.
The words ‘Spirit of Britannia’ were mentioned on the screen at the end of the carriage and I focused on it.
‘With the upcoming success of the Nippon Maru,’ the news presenter said, ‘His Majesty’s government has announced that the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Western Europe will be building a generation ship as well, to travel to the third planet of the red dwarf star Wolf 1061, fourteen light-years away.’
A graphic of the star appeared on the screen. What would the planet’s light be like, I wondered – would everything be tinted red?
The next station was mine, and I lugged my duffel bag over my shoulder and went to the door. The wind and warm rain howled into the carriage as I put my head down to exit. I was the only one leaving the train, and the car I’d ordered was waiting for me. I rushed through the pouring rain to climb in, told it Mum’s address, and sat back, fluffing my short black hair to free it of water.
The car rattled and swayed over the potholed road – something felt severely wrong with the suspension. The village probably couldn’t afford the required maintenance, and finding printable designs for the parts for such an old model would be a nightmare. I’d have a look at it during the week I was visiting Mum and see if I could do some minor repairs.
I opened the envelope again and flipped through the mission orders. I’d read them so many times I had them memorised. My role on the starship would be security officer, estimating the risks in space, and reporting back to Earth with my findings. My secondary roles were raising two children – two children! – and teaching the next generation how to use military hardware in case they had to defend themselves. I’d never considered having kids, that was my partner Dianne’s thing, and now I was being ordered to be inseminated with two of them.
I shifted uncomfortably. Was two years enough time to learn all I needed to about being crew on a starship? I smiled to myself. Starship crew. I liked the sound of that.
The car arrived at Mum’s cottage, and I hoisted my bag and ran through the rain to the front door. Mum must have been watching for me, because it opened just as I reached it. I ducked through the doorway into the refreshingly cool entry hall, and trod on something small and hard that resulted in hysterical, high-pitched yelps.
I dropped my bag and picked up the puppy to comfort it, and was rewarded by frantic licks. I checked the dog over; she was fine. I’d just stepped on her wagging tail.
‘Sorry I hurt you, puppy.’ I leaned down to hug Mum with my other arm. ‘Where’s old Puppy?’
Mum guided me into her tiny living room, just big enough for a sofa and screen. A folding table stood to one side, and a rough brick bench marked the kitchen. The sweet, rich smell of steaming rice and eggs filled the cottage.
‘Some itinerants came through and stole Puppy. I didn’t get to him in time – they roasted him over their fire and ate him. Bastards.’ She put the kettle on. ‘Mr MacDeen gave me the new puppy, but I had to trade for her.’
‘That’s fine; I don’t mind doing some digging. I’m here for a week, and I’m sure the rain will stop.’
Mum poured water into the pot. ‘That’s good, because the top field needs clearing. And I traded a new terrace field for Puppy.’
‘She’s worth it.’ I turned the dog over in my lap so I could scratch her belly, to her squirming ecstasy. Her oversized paddle-like paws suggested she would grow to be much bigger than old Puppy.
‘Hopefully she’ll be a better guard dog,’ Mum said scornfully. She set the cups on the table and filled them with tea. ‘What sort of dumb dog lets himself get eaten?’
‘You need better names for your animals, Mum,’ I said with amusement.
‘I have rice from the new bottom terrace you made for me, and eggs, and chicken,’ Mum said, ignoring me. ‘I had enough surplus coffee from this year’s harvest to trade with Mrs Chandra for four chickens!’
‘Are they all called Chicken?’
Mum leaned across the table and tapped my arm. ‘Don’t be rude.’ She settled back in her chair and folded her hands over her belly. ‘Not any more. One of them stopped laying six weeks ago and now it’s called Dinner.’
Every time I saw my mother, the lines on her face were more pronounced; a combination of her steady weight loss and her outdoor life in the harsh climate. She was the thinnest I’d ever seen her; she obviously wasn’t eating the extra rations I was sending. She was either hoarding them or giving them away to other villagers in greater need.
‘So tell me why you’re here when you weren’t due for leave,’ she said. ‘Is everything all right with Dianne?’
‘Yeah, she and Victor moved in together. They’ve gone domestic. They say I’m welcome any time; there’s room for me as well.’
‘And how do you feel about that? You and Dianne were good for each other. You’ve had this on-and-off thing with her and Victor for years; I was hoping you’d finally settle down, maybe give me some grandchildren.’
I didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m glad for her, but I’m happy where I am.’
‘You don’t seem too worried about her setting up house with Victor.’
I shrugged. ‘I’m very fond of both of them, you know that. We’re good friends. Close friends. But not …’ Mum always cut to the heart of things and drew the truth out of me. ‘I love her dearly, but I don’t think I was ever in love with her, Mum.’
‘That was obvious.’
‘And something else happened.’ I placed the envelope on the table.
Mum glanced at it, then back at me. ‘They found out you’re a telepath,’ she said, her voice flat with dismay.
‘No. They want me to crew the Spirit of Britannia.’
She spoke firmly and without hesitation. ‘They are not having you. They took your father, they’re not taking you! You’re all I have.’
‘They’ll give you five million pounds –’
‘That’s five thousand new pounds! That’s only two years of your salary, and you’ll be gone for the rest of your life!’
‘That is five million new pounds,’ I said.
‘Oh. Still not worth it. My daughter is not for sale!’
‘Five million a year, Mum.’
She froze with her mouth open. ‘A year? Five million a year?’
‘The ship leaves in two years. If I go on it, you’ll get five million new pounds every year for the rest of your life.’
‘But I’d lose you! Never see you again!’ She spoke like a news reporter: ‘Mrs Choumali, was it worth the money to have your daughter effectively die?’
‘I’d still be in regular contact, the same way the Japanese were.’
‘It takes five years fo
r messages to go backwards and forwards from the Nippon Maru.’ She waved her hand at the inactive screen. ‘They sent the message that they were nearly there five years ago. They could be dead and we don’t know!’
‘That’s only at the end of the journey – and neither of us will be alive then. At the beginning, the lag will be hours, a day at most. We could talk every week, the same way the crew of the Nippon Maru did.’
‘That’s more often than we talk now,’ Mum said. She rose and went into the kitchen. ‘Come and put plates out.’ She checked the rice cooker, then pulled the central pot out of the magnetic coil. ‘I will not take money as compensation for losing my daughter. You are not for sale.’
I shifted the puppy from my lap, put the bowls on the table, and used the argument I’d been saving for this moment. ‘I want to go, Mum.’
She turned to see me. ‘How much do you want to go?’
‘I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I’ll be crew on a starship, Mum. This is the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had.’
She relaxed and smiled broadly. ‘Well, why didn’t you say that in the beginning? That makes all the difference in the world. This is wonderful!’ She embraced me, her head on my chest, then put the omelette on the table and sat. ‘Our family, in the stars. A new planet with sane weather.’ She reached across the table, took my hand and squeezed it. ‘I am so proud of you.’
I released the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. ‘That was easier than I expected.’
‘Come, eat rice and chicken,’ Mum said, ‘and tell me about the mission. My daughter – starship captain! I cannot wait to tell Mrs MacDeen. She thinks she’s so superior because her son is in university.’
‘I’ll be a security officer, not captain,’ I said, and put some chicken omelette onto my rice. The fresh natural food smelled wonderful and my stomach clenched with hunger. ‘And you can’t tell anyone yet.’ I scooped the fluffy flavourful rice into my mouth and put the bowl down. ‘So tell me about your plans for a new terrace field.’
‘No, I want all the details about the Spirit of Britannia,’ Mum said, and smiled slyly. ‘Any room on board for an old rice farmer?’
