by CJ Birch
I jump off the bed. “What the fuck?”
They both stop and stare as if I’ve just risen from the dead.
Just then, a voice cuts in over the intercom. I recognize it as Everette’s and shudder.
“Sir, we’ve found the engineer.”
“Good. I’ll be there in a second.” Sarka strides toward the door, opens it, and speaks in a low voice to one of his men. He comes back with one set of shackles and grabs Jordan’s arm before she can pull away, then captures her wrist with the metal bracelet. It snaps shut. He then turns to me. “Alison.” He motions for me to come forward. I freeze. A million things run through my mind. One is how much it will hurt if I charge him. I’m still in bare feet, and there’s not much I can do in an attack against a man who probably is double my weight. But I should try.
Sarka shakes his head, reading my thoughts. It’s uncanny how he always seems to know what I’m thinking. “Don’t try it, Alison. I have two armed guards outside in the hall. It will not be pleasant if I have to use force against you.”
I don’t move. He’s found the engineer. I know he means Hartley. They’re going to make him get the ship back up and running. We’re still a few hours from the Posterus. There’s a lot I can do with a few hours, but will I get the chance? Over forty-five thousand people are waiting to welcome us and the new engine that will carry a quarter of the species to a new home.
Then a hopelessness descends. What will happen if the Burrs succeed and we do blow up the Posterus, will they attempt another generational ship? Will they still try to find humans a new home? Or did we just spend the better part of two decades building a ship that will lead us nowhere? No!
Sarka’s patience has finally thinned. He yanks hard on Jordan’s arm, pulling her with him as he stomps toward me. I’m startled out of my thoughts. He has a tight grip on my wrist before I’m able to pull free. Shit. It clicks into place, sending a shudder down my spine. I peer at our restraints. They’re locked with a passcode, which makes them almost impossible to break out of. Almost.
He brushes the back of his hands over my cheek. I pull away from the soft touch, but he tangles his hand in my hair, pulling me close enough to see the stubble on his chin, to smell his breath, which reeks of pears. “Don’t do it, Alison. I know you. This is not an opportunity to plan your escape.” He releases me and taps the side of my head. “I know you. Remember that.” And with those parting words, he leaves, locking Jordan and me in her cabin.
Chapter Twenty-two
As soon as we’re alone in Jordan’s cabin, she turns to me. “Oh, Ash, what did they do to you?” Her fingertips trace the tender skin below my eye. I pull away, a little harsher than I intend.
I tilt her head. The gash on her temple has crusted over, but the smeared blood makes it appear worse than it is. My anxiety lessens a little. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
She wraps her hand around my wrist, eyes locked on mine. “He was following in our wake. I had Vasa keep an eye out for their emissions. There was nothing you could do to stop him. He still would’ve taken the ship if you had stayed on board. I should’ve told you in the pod, but I panicked.” She shakes her head and drops her gaze. “I have a tendency to do that around you.”
I love that she admits this, and the only thing I want to do is close the space between us, to feel comfort in the heat of her body. All it would take is a simple nudge at the small of her back to make that happen. She bites her lip and peers back at me, and I know in that look she would follow me. But instead, I take a step back and pull my wrist from her hand. There’s too much I need explained.
“How is Davis Sarka your father?” I ask.
“Don’t make me explain the birds and the bees to you, Ash. I don’t think I have the patience for it.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” I steer her toward the bed. The chain on the restraints jangles as I pull her next to me. “How is it possible that Sarka’s your father? I thought you grew up on Delta.”
She nods, but doesn’t look at me. Instead she studies our hands resting in shackles next to each other on the bed. The dark metal stands stark against our pale skin, orbiting our wrists like the moon does the Earth. She entwines our fingers, and when she raises her head, resignation clouds her deep blue eyes. “You want the long version or the short version?”
“Let’s save the extended version for when we have more time.”
She sweeps her hair back, taking care to free several strands that have become stuck in the blood on her temple, then turns to look out the windows at the stars dotting the view. “My mom was born on Delta. She was second generation to be born on the Belt. The way she explained it, things were a lot different back then. The Commons wasn’t as powerful as it is now, and Union fleet was in its infancy. There, um…there wasn’t as much hostility between the early Belt settlements then. It was still very much a joint effort. And the Burrs hadn’t become as organized, they were still just leftovers from an almost forgotten war. When my mom turned eighteen, she enlisted in Union fleet. She said she wanted to explore, and the idea of spending the rest of her life farming and milking cows on Delta was only a step up from digging for minerals in the mines on Eps.”
“Sounds like you had a similar experience.”
“I think I would’ve rather lost a limb than stick around there.” Jordan huffs, raising her left arm to emphasize which limb she’d be willing to sacrifice. “I mean, it wasn’t a bad way to grow up. I just didn’t want to do it for life. My mom knew what would happen to her just as much as I did. Marriage, babies, an early death from backbreaking work. That wasn’t for her. She’d only been in service for two years before she went missing and was eventually declared dead, at least that’s what her service record says. I looked it up as soon as I had enough clearance.” This last part is spoken into her chest. It’s so quiet, as if she’s ashamed of how she found out. Before I can say anything, she clears her throat and continues.
“My mom was a breathtaking woman. She was taller than most of the women on the station. I remember she would carry herself with such confidence, as if the surrounding filth couldn’t touch her. I wanted to be like that someday. Her beauty saved her life when the ship was raided by the Burrs, just a few million kilometers from Earth’s moon. Most of the crew were killed, but the captain took a liking to her and let her live. He took her to their home base, a patchwork space station that orbits Earth. It’s ancient. Parts of it date back to before artificial gravity. They would float through modules like they were swimming underwater. I can’t imagine they’re still using it, but that’s where I was born. It’s where I spent the first twelve years of my life, looking down on Earth, wanting what I couldn’t have.”
“I know,” I say. And I do know this feeling so well.
“Earth always seemed so close, and yet, it was this intangible fantasy. This orbiting body, full of adventures and mystique.”
I nod and squeeze her hand, letting her know I understand.
“To me, it represented the life I should have had. But I was always stuck looking down, forever removed from it.” She stops, her gaze landing on the globe of Earth sitting on her shelf.
“You don’t have to tell me any more if it’s too difficult.”
She shakes her head. “I want you to know.” Her voice is soft and a little husky. Her thumb traces the lines along my palm. It grabs at me in places that aren’t appropriate for the heaviness of the moment. “She, um, lived with them for about a year and a half before she became pregnant with me. The way he would tell it, they fell in love. But I think it was just survival on her part.
“I was eight when she started planning our escape. At that age I still lived in blissful ignorance. I remember being proud of my father. Everyone looked up to him. They listened when he spoke. At the time, I didn’t realize it was fear that made them do it.”
I nod. When I was young, I used to watch my father address the Commons from the sidelines, in awe at t
he way he could command a room.
“I didn’t understand a lot of things,” she says. “One day I followed him down to the lower parts of the station where I knew I wasn’t supposed to go, but that only made it all the more appealing. It was the screams that drew me.” She stops for a long moment, her eyes scrunching tight, remembering something long forgotten.
I look away, remembering my own time aboard Sarka’s ship. I don’t want Jordan to see the dread that’s suddenly crept into my every pore.
“The man was bound to a chair, his wrists tied to the armrests. My father had a knife, which he was pushing into the man’s nail bed.” She opens her eyes, directing them toward me. “Is that what he did to you?”
I try to find a neutral expression before turning to face her. “Jordan, I’m not going to tell you what he did to me.”
“Because it’s worse?”
“No, because it’s over. It happened. It’s done. And nothing I do or say will change that. I don’t want you to know what he did because if you do, it’ll make it real.” And if I relive it, I won’t be as strong as I need to be for her.
“Jesus, Ash. Don’t say things like that. It’s just going to make me think the worst.”
I realize all I want to do is protect her, which is bizarre. After all, she grew up with him. Who better to know the evil of what the Burrs do than her?
I stroke the back of her hand. “I’m okay, Jordan, really. What happened after?”
It takes a moment for her to understand what I’m asking. But she does eventually continue. “I think my mom realized that I’d never have a real childhood if we stayed. All these years later, I don’t know how she managed to get us out of there. At the time, I was oblivious. She was always good at keeping a buffer between me and what happened on the station.
“When they’d had a successful raid the crew would parade down the main corridor with their spoils, which often included people. My mom would always make sure I was safely in our rooms whenever that happened, but I’d hear the other kids talk about it. My mother would’ve been paraded like a prize Sarka had won. As a kid, I remember being sorry that I never got to see it, but now I can’t imagine what it would feel like, being gawked at and appraised like an object, something to be traded. The humiliation she must have felt.
“It was early morning, the day we escaped. I was still asleep, and she woke me up. I still remember the feel of her hand clamped over my mouth as she told me to quietly pack up only the essentials.” Jordan laughs a little. “My idea of essentials at twelve left much to be desired. I stuffed my bag with trinkets, prized possessions, a few picture books, shells, all my treasures from Earth.” She points to the globe on the shelf. “The last thing I grabbed was that bottle of tequila. I wanted something to remember my dad. It was his favorite, and I thought if I had one of his treasures he’d never forget about me. The concept of forever back then wasn’t as easy to grasp. Time has a way of being smaller when you’re little, you know?”
I press my forehead to hers. “Time has a way of becoming the exact opposite of what you need at any given moment.”
We breathe together like this for a minute or two, and I know she understands what I’m really saying. “Life for me hadn’t been so bad.” She pulls away. “I followed my mom because I loved her, but I remember being terrified to leave. I had friends and people I loved. I couldn’t understand how my mom could just give it all up. I didn’t realize what life must have been like for her.
“We boarded a small vessel with two other families, both like my mom and me, women who had been captured and claimed by two Burrs. There were seven of us in total. Most of the fleet were on a raiding mission, so there wasn’t a lot of security watching. The plan was to rendezvous with a cargo ship once we were clear of Earth’s moon, but we were intercepted by Union fleet, and naturally they assumed we were a raiding party.
“My mom and I made it to an escape pod. Some of the other families weren’t so lucky. Only one other family managed to escape, a little boy and his mother. We spent almost four days in the pod. My mom had given me something to knock me out so I wouldn’t use so much oxygen. I woke up in the cargo ship med center. She had taken something after I’d fallen asleep. They said it was painless. She wanted to make sure I had enough air to survive until rescue came. There wouldn’t have been enough for both of us.”
There’s no way I can watch the look of sheer anguish on her face. I lean into her; it’s the only comfort I can give, the way we’re shackled together. It’s nice to see the real Jordan again. It occurs to me that it’s the only time she ever shows any genuine emotion, like in the med center with the diagnostic cube, I get glimpses of what she’s really feeling when she drops her shield. We stay like that for several long moments, the warmth of her body seeping into mine. I try to keep my thoughts on Jordan as a child instead of Jordan the woman molded against my body.
I get why she’ll never see the Burrs as monsters. She may see what they do now through the eyes of an adult, but her memories of her dad, of Sarka, are through the eyes of a child. Part of how she sees him in her past must be mixed up with that unconditional love. I remember when the awe of watching my father speak to the Commons began to crumble. The moment I was old enough to understand what he was actually saying and that I didn’t agree with him.
She pulls back, taking all the warmth of her body with her. “Nobody knows that Sarka’s my father, not even Katherine, my mom’s friend, who raised me.”
“And no one ever has to. I won’t say anything.”
She leans her forehead against mine. “What do you think the odds of us getting out of here alive are?”
“Slim.” Sarka’s voice startles us both.
Jordan jerks away from me.
Sarka drops a uniform on the edge of Jordan’s bed. “It’s time,” he says.
At my dumbfounded look, he explains. “We can’t have you escorting Hartley to the engine room on the Posterus wearing one of our uniforms, can we?” I want to punch the grotesque grin off his face. He bends between us to enter the code on our restraints and removes them.
When I still don’t move, he says, “Come now, Alison. Don’t be shy. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He peers over at Jordan, his grin widening. “Or should I amend that to, nothing we haven’t seen before.”
It only takes a moment for the mortification to fade from Jordan’s face. It’s replaced by understanding and what he’s implying, that he’s seen me naked. She launches off the bed toward him.
Chapter Twenty-three
I’m escorted executioner style down the corridors of the Persephone toward the air dock where I’ll meet Hartley and the new engine core to board the Posterus. I should be panicking, but for the first time in weeks my mind is still. Perhaps it’s because for the first time since I stepped across Jordan’s threshold, I know how she feels and I’m more certain than ever that what I do next will be to protect her, even if I am breaking a promise.
Watching her fly at Sarka, my mind formulated a plan. Her attempt to launch herself at Sarka, however ill-advised, was easily deflected. He was expecting that response, hoping for it. But instead of being triumphant, as he caught her in an easy choke hold, a strange bitterness seeped through his composure. What does he resent, I wonder, that the woman he supposedly loved deserted him, taking his daughter with her? Or is it that he’s required to hurt his daughter, both physically and emotionally, to accomplish his goals? In the end, it doesn’t matter. He will do what’s needed to finish what he’s started. And all I can do is what I do so well, apparently—put myself in harm’s way to protect those around me. I will never know if I’ve succeeded.
Hartley is standing by the air dock. It’s obvious they haven’t filled him in on anything because when he sees me, his eyes expand and his mouth drops open. “Ash!” he cries. “Where did you come from? I heard you left the ship.”
I wave the comment off as I approach. I’m now dressed in my uniform, neatly pressed and smelling of clean
ing solution. A faint floral scent wafts off me in waves. I notice that because since leaving Jordan, everything is enhanced—colors, sounds, and odors.
“What’s going on? They won’t tell me anything.” He’s holding on to the engine core with tight fingers, afraid someone will take it from him, like ripping a security blanket from the arms of a child. Hartley likes order, and this new plan—so last minute—must be killing him.
I’m not about to tell him anything in front of Sarka’s men. I don’t want them to realize how much I know. “They asked me to escort you to the engine room on the Posterus.”
Hartley nods and his face smooths with relief. I guess he thinks he’s safe with me. And now I realize Dr. Prashad didn’t tell him anything about the nanobots clinging to his innards like freeloaders looking for a ride. He has no idea what’s about to happen, and I don’t have the heart to tell him he’s about to die. But in order for my plan to work, that’s what needs to happen. Hartley has never struck me as the self-sacrifice type. I can’t risk filling him in and hoping he’s an eager participant. But if Sarka has his way, we’ll all be dead anyway.
As soon as Hartley starts the core, the flare will arc, and I will act as the spark to ignite Hartley. Even if I can’t resist any suggestions from my knot, it might not matter how far I am from him. The amount of energy coursing through the room at that point should be enough of a catalyst to set him off. The explosion will be devastating to anyone aboard the Posterus and all vessels connected at the air docks. Which means Sarka is sacrificing himself and Jordan. To disengage would only draw attention to the Persephone and his plan. Unless he’s planning on using an escape pod and has his ship waiting on the periphery.
