Voyage to Ayama

by K. A Knight

  “I only worry because I care,” he says softly, his breath moving loose strands of hair on my head. I fiddle with his shirt before flattening it and smoothing the material down.

  “I know.” His arms tighten before he rubs his head on mine.

  “We are more alike than you know. You're my only family, Inds. I can’t afford to lose you.” His voice breaks, and he clears his throat. I think his words through. I’m his only family? I guess I never thought about it, I just figured he had his parents on Earth. Does he mean they are dead? Or that he doesn't talk to them?

  “I'm terrified that I am going to wake up one day to find you gone, just like-” I lift my head, and he buries his head in my shoulder.

  Hesitating, my hands gently drop to his head, and when he doesn't move, I run my fingers through his short hair.

  “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. You will always have me. I will always be your family. Just like you are mine.” He nods into my shoulder, but doesn't move. We sit there holding each other before he pulls away with a disappointed sigh.

  “Promise me something?” he asks. His warm hand cups my cheek, making me close my eyes in bliss as I lean in closer. Blushing, I pull away; what the hell am I doing?

  “Anything,” I say, trying to cover for my awkwardness.

  “Just promise me, no matter what, you won’t ever push me away. That you will always need me.” He finishes the last on a whisper. I can see the wetness in his eyes, also the fear.

  “Barrott, I will always need you. I don’t know how I would have survived my parents dying, or this year, without you. If I'm ever scared or need someone, I know you will always be there. I might not always say it, and seem ungrateful, but I would be lost without you.” Taking a deep breath, I face him, showing my cards “You're my everything.”

  He sucks in a breath, searching my face. I don't know what he sees, but he drops his hand and his face closes down. My heart stutters as pain runs through my chest at him closing me away.

  “Not anymore, I’m not.” He gets up, causing me to stand as he walks to the door.

  He can’t keep doing this! Walking away and leaving me hurting. First, he says he loves me, then he shows me he's scared of losing me? But he's unwilling to move, this stubborn man!

  “That's it? You’re just gonna open up then walk away like it never happened? Why are you so scared of showing me any feelings, of just being with me for one moment without pretending it’s your duty. Just be honest with yourself, because you sure as shit aren’t with me!”

  He stops with his back still to me.

  “Have you ever thought that maybe the idea of opening up, of showing you how I feel, terrifies me? That the idea you could walk away from me kills me? I can live with you loving someone else, as long as I still get to be in your life. I can’t live with having you and losing you, so we both need to move on from these feelings because that is what is happening here. I can see it already changing, changing you. You will have them, and I will find someone else, but I need some space to do that. It’s all I could think about last night, running every possible scenario through my head only to lose you every time. I’m sorry Indy, but this is for the best.”

  He walks out before I can answer, and honestly, I don't know what I would say. It seems like every step forward we take, something blocks us, and we take two steps back. The chasm opening up between us with unsaid things and emotions will be our downfall. How long can I keep hoping he will realise he's what I want? What does he mean about moving on and space? How long before he pushes me away for good?

  Tears slowly drip down my face, did he mean he won’t be in my life anymore? The idea of him with someone else has me feeling sick. I don’t think I could watch it. Which means that I would have to cut him out of my life. Sitting down at his empty seat, I drop my head into my hands. What am I going to do? Choose him and lose the brothers and Cain, or lose him and have them? Either option will break my heart. How can he do this to me, and expect me to be okay with this!

  My heart nearly stops. Was this his way of saying goodbye? Was he holding me so tight because he was planning on letting me go? Pain has me gasping as I try to convince myself he wouldn't do that. I survived losing my parents, and as wrong as it sounds, I don't think I could survive losing him.

  Time rushes past as I sit, lost in my own head trying to think of a way to make him understand, to not have to lose anybody. I don’t have answers, and my heart still hurts at the way we have left things. I need my best friend.

  Leaving the brothers sleeping, I go on a mission to find Effie. Now that my adrenaline rush is over and I’m trying not to think about Barrott, I feel bad about using her logins. If anyone traced it, she could be in some serious trouble. Plus I haven’t seen her much recently, she's been so busy with her training, I need to talk to her about everything that has happened.

  I'm lost in my thoughts when I almost run into two people in the hallway, I blink and mumble an apology while trying to step around them. When they move to block me again I lift my head with a glare.

  In front of me is the bald man and the black-haired lady from the race.

  “What?” I snap. They look behind me with a nod. I turn and see two men with their arms crossed blocking the hallway behind me. I turn back to the ones who are obviously in charge.

  “What do you want?” I ask slowly.

  “Just to talk,” the woman says, her voice is high and annoying.

  “You brought two goons with you just to talk?” I scoff in disbelief. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The bald-headed man is giving me the creeps; he's so silent and there's something about him that screams at me to run the other way.

  “They are simply here to make sure no one gets hurt,” she says, the fake smile in place.

  “And why would someone get hurt?” My voice is even and I'm proud of myself.

  “Let us go somewhere more private, Indy.”

  I narrow my eyes at her.

  “No,” I cross my arms and mimic the goons’ stance. Her brow furrows like she's not used to being denied.

  “No?” She echoes.

  “No. You can say whatever you want to say here.”

  She looks behind me and shakes her head, but I don’t move my eyes off her, she’s the one in charge after all.

  “I didn’t want to do it this way, Indy. Please know I really do just want to talk.” Something smashes into the back of my skull and sends me tumbling into the waiting darkness.

  Motherfucker, my head is killing me!

  It feels like I drank a whole crate of Lee’s moonshine. I lift my hand to rub the back of it; when I feel a bandage there, I freeze. What the hell? Cracking open my eyes, I quickly slam them shut again when the light spears painfully into them, causing a painful throb in my already aching head.

  “Go steady.” A woman’s voice instructs, the high pitch of it grating on my already sensitive head. I do what she says though; I wait for the throbbing to fade to a dull ache, and then I slowly open my eyes again, giving them time to adjust to the light. My head is resting on my chest, and when I tilt it up, my neck protests. I’m guessing I have been slumped like that for a while. I crack my neck from side to side while surveying the room I’m in. There is a metal table in front of me and it looks like we are in a housing unit, except its only one room and the table, a chair opposite me and the one I am sitting on is the only furniture in the room.

  “What, not bothering to tie my hands down?” I joke, covering the pain in my voice.

  “That won’t be necessary, Indy. After all, like I said I just want to talk.”

  I crane my neck around to look for her. She steps out from behind me and gracefully sits on the chair opposite me.

  “Then why do I feel like I’m in an interrogation room? Oh my god, is it probing time?” I gasp dramatically, and she recoils in disgust.

  “Please, Indy, we have some very important matters to discuss; it involves your parents.” She crosses her legs, her words instantly s
obering me.

  “What about my parents?” I snarl. She raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow at me.

  “We will get to that in time. Now, as I was saying-“

  “No, I think we will get to that now,” I say and lean back in my chair mirroring her. She frowns at me, anger flashing across her face before she forces the fake smile back.

  “Of course. Your parents were the ones who started this, after all.”

  “Started what?” I ask in confusion, I don’t know whether the blow to the head is making me slow or she is being purposely vague.

  “The rebellion, of course. We are The Saviours, Indy, and we need your help.”

  Well, shit, I wasn’t expecting that. My head gives a painful throb as if to say ‘me too’. I just stare at her dumbly.

  “You are telling me my parents started the rebellion?” My voice is as incredulous as I feel. My straight-laced parents? She lifts one shoulder and drops it.

  “In a way. I am a scientist too; I worked with your mother. She was working on the life cycle of Ayama. Studying the new planet, from the life of the smallest cell to the outcome from our colonisation. She found something, she took it to the higher-ups but they dismissed her and told her to move on from her work to something else. She did not, she carried on looking.”

  “What did she find?” She stares at me, watching me like a hawk.

  “Ayama is dying, our changes to the air, hell to even the plant life, are killing the planet. We didn’t learn from our mistakes, we are doing it all over again but this time it looks like the effect on the planet is sped up. The uppers and government don’t want us to know that. Can’t let a ship full of colonists know they are heading for a dying planet, right?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I laugh bitterly.

  “I’m afraid not.” She looks at me sadly, but it’s like a mask. It’s not quite right; it's just a little off, like someone trying to imitate the emotion.

  “How would they not know the planet was dying? Do you really expect me to believe they are stupid enough to think this will stay under wraps?”

  “Desperate people do desperate things. They are planning on informing certain people when we get there. There is already a team on the ground working on saving the planet, on reversing the effect of humans habitating a world we shouldn’t.”

  “How do you know all of this?” My voice is full of scorn.

  “I am one of the people on the team hoping to save the planet.”

  “And instead of doing that, you decided to start a rebellion?”

  “The people have a right to know, Indy. This is practically a suicide mission; the chances of us being able to save the planet are slim!”

  “Who knows?” I ask, anger growing in my belly. If Barrott or Cain knew and didn’t tell me, I don’t think I will be able to forgive them. This woman’s methods might be wrong, but she has a point: the people have the right to know. But won’t that cause a panic? Work and training would stop, and we would be in a tin can in space as people riot. Maybe the uppers have a good idea with only telling a certain amount of people until they know more. The moral debate causes a jackhammering in my head, which I have to breathe through.

  “Not many, the main crew, the head guards and a few select scientists.” I breathe a sigh of relief, so Cain shouldn’t know, but what about Barrott?

  “So, your solution to make them tell everyone is to hurt the ship and the people on board?” I scowl at her, remembering the people in the medical centre.

  “Every cause has its share of innocent blood spilt. We are showing the uppers we are serious in our threats. They must inform the ship, or we will keep going.”

  “You could disable the ship, and then we would be stuck in space!” I shout.

  “No, we have the best people as part of the rebellion, we know exactly where to hit and what sort of damage the ship can take.”

  “You are going about this wrong,” I say, looking into her eyes. Anger flares in her the brown depths, but I carry on. “If what you say is true, the people deserve to know or have the right to choose; I agree with you on that. But instead, you are starting a war with the uppers and only hurting everyone in the process. You aren’t helping; you are using this knowledge as an excuse to rain anarchy down on this ship. You say your people know where to hit. What if they are wrong? What if you damage the ship? What if you kill someone? It won’t make people trust you. In fact, it will do the opposite. You will push them away, and then they will never believe you. They will think you are the problem and this rebellion is a way to hurt them. You are letting your anger cloud your judgment, and it’s making you blind. Your original goal is gone, and instead, your anger at the division between classes is becoming more and more apparent. Let me ask you this. Are you really fighting because you think the people deserve the truth or because it is a good excuse to get back at the uppers because of who and what they stand for?”

  I try to get my thoughts across without rambling. I think of Cain and try to convey to her the wrongness of their judgement.

  “Not everyone up there is bad, just like not everyone down below is good. You can’t blame them for your social level. When we get to Ayama, it won’t matter; you can start again, be who you want. But this rebellion will cause more damage than good if you continue the way you are going, and no one will be left to save the planet you claim is dying.”

  I take a deep breath, proud of myself for standing up to them and trusting logic even when hurt and anger swirl inside of me. Why didn’t my parents tell me? Why would they keep something like this from me? Did it lead to their death?

  Her face turns pensive. She eyes me like she’s never seen me before.

  “Is that your final decision?” she asks coldly. I sigh and lean back, the words having obviously floated over her head.

  “There wasn't a decision to make. You never even told me why you need me?” The throb in my head is back bigger than ever, and all I want to do is curl up in bed with the brothers.

  “You are not ready to know, if that’s how you feel.” She stands and goes to leave without another word.

  “So, are you planning on keeping me here?” I scoff. She doesn’t even turn to look at me.

  “You may leave, although I wouldn’t suggest talking to anyone about what happened here. You should know this rebellion is bigger than you can imagine and those you hold dear might not be the people you think they are.” I look at the table trying to breathe through the agony racing through my veins. “We will make you understand how serious we are, then you will help us. If only you knew how important you were.” With that cryptic threat, she is gone. Great. I go to stand, but have to sit back down when my head spins. Did they really need to hit me?

  DAY 920

  Unsure what to do, I search the ship for Barrott, needing answers only he can provide. I know we left everything in a bad place with me not sure where we are, but I know if I need him he will be there. He also knows the most about the rebellion, and it’s got me wondering how.

  I search everywhere but the crew quarters, gradually getting more and more frustrated. When I spot a man following me each turn I take, I start to get worried. When I spot the same man again when I turn the next corner I start to panic. That woman trusted me with a lot of secrets and, I did see her face. It makes sense she would have me watched. It means I can't just bumble around the ship screaming “coup!”.

  My head is throbbing at me, a reminder of the blow I sustained, so I decide to give up and head back home. I’ll message Barrott and hope that he gets it quickly. I don’t see anyone on the way back to my unit, thank god. When I stumble inside, I lay on the sofa thinking through everything she said. My head is agony at this point and the room is dimming to black. I try to fight it but my body shuts down. Too much stress, too much pain. Just too much.

  When I wake up, my eyes are blurry and the pain in my head is dulled. Shit, how long was I out? Did I even send a message to Barrott? Flinging myself off the sofa in co
nfused panic, I head to the comms unit. The screen is hazy and it's a lot more difficult than it should be to access it.

  I can't go on like this, but if I go to the med bay they will ask questions. My sluggish brain takes a while before I decided to message Effie to see if she will come check me out. It does pay to have a healer as a friend. When she doesn't reply straight away, I grumble and decide to shower, at least it might wake me up.

  After the quickest shower in history, I wipe the condensation away from the glass and wince at my haggard appearance. My head throbs, reminding me of my injury and I poke the lump on the back of it experimentally. When pain lances through my head I wince and drop my hand. Pushing away from the mirror, I slowly get dressed, having to focus on each task more than normal. By the time I'm in my jumpsuit, I’m panting and exhausted. Great.

  I slowly head back to the comms unit to check if Effie has messaged me. Three messages await and I tap the top one.

  Meet us in the lagoon, good looking :)

  Smiling a little, I tap the next.

  Speed Demon, something is wrong, just lay low for now okay?

  Frowning, I consider his warning. What the hell is going on in this ship? The next message pops up.

  I'll be there in the next hour.

  No sender, which means it’s Barrott. Good, at least I might get some answers. I try to ignore my heart speeding up at the thought of seeing him again. There are much more important things than my unanswered questions about our relationship. I'm just turning away when it goes off again.

  Sure thing babe, be at yours in five. Is everything okay?

  I quickly type my response.

  Yes, but bring your med bag.

  Ignoring the chime from her response, I drag my ass to the sofa and slump there, waiting for her. Can today get any worse?

  “You really need to go to the medical bay, Inds,” Effie pleads as she paces in front of me. I groan and get comfy on the sofa, wincing at the pressure on the back of my sore head. The door buzzes and she throws me a dirty look as she keeps talking on her way to answer it.