Brightly Burning

by Alexa Donne

  The captain nodded. “I have a contact I was hoping to meet with in person. I hadn’t had time since the quarantine ended, but this would work.”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Tomorrow morning,” the captain said. “I’ll have the visas by then. You’ll be on a twenty-four-hour countdown clock.”

  “Jane Elliot,” Sergei greeted me the next morning with a nod as Jon and I stepped onto his shuttle. My alias was plain, but it would do. I was taking on the identity of one of our fieldworkers who had already been on a shortlist for a job interview.

  The trip was short, pushing close to an hour only because we ended up in a holding pattern before we were permitted to dock. It gave me time to get the Lady Liberty in my sights, take her in, this famous ship that Hugo owned. She was wholly unlike any other vessel in the fleet, more space station than ship, multiple resident wings circling a central vertical column, capped on top by a dome-like structure. We docked in the middle, where immediately the hustle and bustle of the packed American ship became apparent. The transport bay was full of ships, packages, and crew; beyond the doors came the echo of activity. No one paid us much mind, nor did anyone hear as I prompted Sergei and Jon to set the twenty-four-hour countdowns on the closed-circuit comms we’d borrowed from Captain Karlson. Then Jon and I left Sergei behind as we proceeded to customs screening.

  Customs was quiet, unsurprisingly, given it was seven a.m., but the scarcity of people only meant the agent on duty paid extra care and attention to the two of us.

  “You’re twenty-eight,” he said, looking down his nose at me and alternately scrutinizing the tab in front of him. The captain had altered Jane Elliot’s travel file to bear my picture, but being no hacker, he left the rest of her files untouched. I sat, trying not to squirm, affecting my best calm and normal face, hoping the customs officer didn’t look any further past my visa file. Or rather, Jane’s visa file.

  “I’ve always looked young,” I answered. “Had to cut my hair short just so people would take me seriously.” Hopefully Jon hadn’t been lying about it making me look older. I was banking on it.

  “And you’re here about a job?” he continued, seeming no less skeptical than before.

  “We both are,” Jon chimed in. “I’m sure you’ve heard the Stalwart is on its last legs. We’re not crazy enough to go down to Earth, but we can’t just transfer to any other ship. We need to get hired.”

  The customs officer became engrossed in his tab unit, flicking and swiping his finger between documents, making a series of noncommittal sounds as he evaluated one piece of information against another. “You’re twenty and interviewing with the engineering corps, and she’s twenty-eight and looking for fieldwork?”

  “The captain made special arrangements,” Jon jumped in, smooth as ever. “I’m his nephew, and she . . .” He hesitated, clearly grasping for a good lie. “Well, she’s pregnant, you see.” I would have made an involuntary noise, but Jon grabbed my hand just in time and squeezed hard enough to stop me from reacting. “Please don’t put that in your file, though. It’s a very delicate situation, but I’m sure you can understand why our captain doesn’t want to send some poor, defenseless baby down to that freezing deathtrap. A job transfer is her only hope.”

  Jon’s histrionics worked, softening up our interrogator just enough. The firm line of his mouth wavered, and he looked at me with sympathy. “My partner and I are having a baby soon. I understand completely.” Then he wrinkled his nose, made a few taps onto his tab screen, and let us go. As soon as we were clear, I punched Jon in the arm so hard, he hissed pain through his teeth.

  “Pregnant? What on earth were you thinking? I obviously don’t look pregnant.”

  He shrugged me off. “He’ll just assume you’re in the early stages. And moreover, I’ve just handed us a perfect backup story. Now if he wasn’t convinced that you’re twenty-eight, or indeed Jane Elliot at all, he’ll just assume you’re some poor, pregnant teenager who lied to save her unborn child. Instead of, you know, a revolutionary who’s wanted for treason.”

  “I’m not a revolutionary,” I grumbled as we made our way toward the central elevator bank. His logic for the double cover was annoyingly good. But now I was saddled with the knowledge that someone had found it one hundred percent convincing that I was currently with child.

  The elevator arrived and we stepped inside, my eyes searching the buttons for my destination. Each residential level was named for a famous American, and my eyes scanned past Roosevelt, Lincoln, Hamilton to find my target: Gates Level, where the captain had confirmed Officer Xiao and the crew were. I moved to press the button, only to find Jon’s hand on my arm, stopping me. “We have to go to our interviews first. They’re scheduled for eight.” He pressed the button for the Roosevelt level.

  “Seriously? We’re going through with the whole ruse?” My whole body buzzed with anticipation for my reunion with Hugo.

  “Of course. You’ll still have plenty of time for your reunion.” We zipped down, until the doors opened and Jon pointed me in a leftward direction. “We’ll meet back here in an hour. Good luck!”

  We ended up meeting up more like two hours later. My interview with what I came to find out was termed the Life and Sustenance Department took forever, first because the overly friendly interviewer insisted on talking about life aboard our respective ships, exchanging fleet trivia, and then because she was inordinately fascinated in all I had to share about soybeans. I spent nearly forty minutes mining my memory for everything I’d learned in school and doing my best not to make it obvious I hadn’t tilled the soil in aid of soybean production in my life. She couldn’t have been interested in apples or carrots? By the time I found Jon back at the elevator bank, I was exhausted.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “Nailed it.” He punched the elevator button with gusto. “I saw no point in blowing the interview, even if it’s just a cover.”

  This time, he let me choose the Gates Level and up, up, up we went, the ride feeling like forever. It was likely only about two, three minutes, but it demonstrated the scale of the Lady Liberty. We followed a sign that denoted one of six corridors, branching out from the elevator bank like spokes, as the one that would lead me to my quarry. After walking what felt like a long stretch down a white, glowing hallway, we came to a door marked Ward K. Unlike on the Stalwart, where wards simply labeled a corridor of rooms, on the Lady Liberty, each ward was a fully functioning microcosm, like a tiny city-state in space. When we pressed the door-release button and stepped inside, we found ourselves in the middle of a bustling town square, a central hub of stores, restaurants, and leisure destinations.

  “By the moon, they have a bar!” Jon exclaimed with some wonder, and I had to grab him by the arm to stop him from charging off in search of a drink.

  “And a library stand,” I observed, eyeing the tab station with a pang of jealousy. It was so easy to get books, food, drink, entertainment here. All the luxuries of life in one place. No wonder Hugo had told me not to worry about the Ingrams ending up here. It was some consolation prize.

  I did a turn, assessing where the residential wings would be, wondering how I was supposed to find Xiao. Sergei had just said Ward K, Gates Level, and nothing else. I caught sight of a wall-mounted tab screen behind us, its big blue letters blinking INFORMATION. A few taps brought up a map. The map led me to a resident index, and Xiao was the only name in the X listing, making her a quick find. Her quarters were down a corridor to our right. I practically took off at a sprint, not bothering to see if Jon was keeping up.

  Every door had a bright tab screen with the inhabitants’ names emblazoned on it, and they whipped past my peripheral vision like dancing candlelight, until I found the one that said XIAO. And FAIRFAX, CARMICHAEL, and POOLE. A shiver ran through me. I touched a finger to the tab screen, bringing up a screen of options, choosing the CALL ON THIS HOUSEHOLD button.

  “You can go fast when you wa
nt to, despite those short legs.” Jon finally caught up.

  And then the door opened.

  “Stella?” a voice shrieked, and then I found myself tackle-hugged with surprising force. Jessa hadn’t changed one bit. “I’m so glad you found us! I have so much to tell you!” She grabbed me by the hand and practically dragged me inside. Their quarters were like those on board the Empire, where we walked straight into a living room. I could see the room branch off into two corridors, where presumably everyone’s bedrooms were. The hair at the back of my neck prickled at the thought that Hugo was in one of those rooms.

  “Is Xiao here?” I asked before Jessa could launch into a story. I would likely get a more cogent telling of how they’d ended up on the Lady Liberty from one of the adults. Jessa nodded, putting a finger to her ear and hailing Xiao on comms. A moment later, Xiao appeared, eyes going wide at the sight of me.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually come,” she said by way of greeting, followed by a firm handshake—​the equivalent of a warm hug, coming from Xiao. “It’s good to see you, Stella, though I have to admit I was surprised to receive the hail from your Stalwart captain on your behalf.”

  “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you. From any of you.”

  Xiao and I locked eyes, hers stormy, which then flicked over to Jessa. “Jessa, you should go to your room.”

  “Why? Because you’re going to talk about him?” Jessa’s tone was cutting, bitter. Beyond her years. I took it back. She wasn’t exactly the girl I’d left. Jessa had changed. Now I was itching to know why.

  “Uh, I’m just Stella’s chaperone,” Jon cut in like Jessa had been referring to him, making a total idiot of himself. He was trying to lighten a mood that wasn’t lifting.

  “Who are you?” Jessa narrowed her eyes at him.

  “I’m from the Stalwart. Name’s Jon. Karlson.”

  I couldn’t believe it. He squirmed under her exacting gaze. Jon Karlson was being felled by an eleven-year-old.

  “You eaten breakfast?” When Jon shook his head, Jessa inclined her head toward a door on the opposite wall. “Come on. Today there’s soy bacon.”

  “Xiao, what happened?” I asked as soon as they were gone. She sat on the couch across from me and sighed.

  “Things did not go well after you left.” She paused, laughed to herself. “That’s an understatement, actually.”

  “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t leaked everything to the press—”

  “No, Stella, don’t feel guilty,” she interrupted. “You did the right thing. No, the spiral started before that. As soon as you left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know how to tell you this. I suppose it’s best to just . . . say it straight.”

  Her demeanor, her words rattled me; I braced myself for impact.

  “Cassandra Fairfax is dead,” she started. “She set her room on fire. Which I suppose is essentially the same thing.”

  “Did the fire damage the ship? Is that why you all moved here?”

  “Not exactly,” she said.

  I heard a sound in the corridor behind me; a shuffling sound, then retreat. I whipped around but found only shadows. Hugo. It had to be.

  “Can I see him?” I asked with my voice low enough that I wouldn’t be overheard.

  Xiao looked puzzled. She turned to look where I’d heard the noise. “Captain Fairfax isn’t here, Stella. I think it’s Lieutenant Poole who is hiding from you.”

  “But he’s on the Lady Liberty, right? Sergei gave me his letter, and I came right away.”

  Xiao looked distinctly uncomfortable. She avoided my gaze. “No, Stella. Captain Fairfax, Hugo, he—​well. He went down to Earth. He’s gone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was as if the ice covering Earth had hopped into the skies and gripped my heart. “Why would Hugo go down to Earth?”

  “Well.” Xiao lowered her voice. “Mason made him go. It was either exile to Earth or a public trial and a death sentence. Either way, Mason didn’t want the full story getting out. The only reason the rest of us are living free is Hugo bargained for our protection in exchange for going. Jessa unfortunately is too young for the full truth, so she thinks he left her willingly.”

  A million questions ran through my head; I was panicked. Hugo could be dead. I could have been existing, breathing, running around the fleet this whole time, while Hugo was down on Earth, suffering, freezing, starving. “When did he go? How long ago? Was the Rochester even built for safe reentry?”

  “We parted ways a week ago.”

  “And the ship?”

  “Should have made it safely. She was better equipped than this vessel, at least.”

  “Have you heard from her? The ship, I mean. Gotten a ping, confirming he landed safely?”

  Xiao looked at me like I was asking her if the moon was made of cheese. “There’s no mechanism for that. And the captain made the decision last-minute enough that there was no time to reprogram Rori to do such a thing. To ping a system up here. She wasn’t built for that.”

  “Why not?” My voice was thick, impending tears tightening my throat. “Do you at least know where he planned to land? The Stalwart is trying to find a ship, sending a party down. We can look for him.”

  “I don’t, no. We’ve been in limbo up here. We can only guess. And hope.”

  “You were his First Officer! How could you not know?” I regretted my outburst as soon as I saw Xiao’s reaction. Hurt, mixed with pity.

  “Stella, I’m sorry. We’re all upset and worried. There was no stopping him once he’d made up his mind.”

  I nodded, like I had accepted what she was telling me, though my blood thrummed through my veins, my mind grasping at straws for something they wouldn’t have thought of; a way to contact Hugo. A way to save him.

  Xiao started talking, but not to me. She seemed to be telling Jessa it was okay to come back into the living room. Talking over comms.

  “You still have comms,” I said. “Aren’t those run through Rori?”

  “No, but it’s similar,” Xiao said after ending the call. “The system on board the Lady Liberty is called Lori, but our comms are on a closed system—​we can communicate only with each other.”

  LORI. Of course. “The two systems have to be related, given the name,” I said. “Can they talk to each other?”

  “We’d have to ask Orion,” Xiao conceded. “He’s on the bridge.”

  I was out of my seat before she finished speaking. “Jon! Get out here.” He appeared within seconds, like he’d been waiting for my call. “Will you take us to him?” I asked Xiao.

  She hesitated. “The captain is going to think we’re way out of line, but yes, I will.”

  I was already at the door, challenging Xiao and Jon to keep up with me. Jon waited until we’d left Ward K behind before asking any questions.

  “Why are we going to the bridge?”

  Xiao pointedly sped up, moving ahead of us, ostensibly to call the elevator. I chose my words carefully.

  “Hugo’s not on the Lady Liberty. He went down to Earth. By himself.”

  Jon hissed air through his teeth. He got it. Going down to Earth alone was beyond dangerous.

  “I’m hoping the AI on board the Lady Liberty can be networked to communicate with the one from the Rochester, since both were built by the same company. I need to figure out where he landed.”

  “You want to go after him.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I have to,” was all I said. We reached the elevator bank, joining Xiao. Jon didn’t ask any other questions.

  The ride was short, the Gates Level being just one down from the top. Xiao sweet-talked our way onto the bridge, using to her advantage the fact that Jessa now owned the Lady Liberty. I got a clearer picture of Xiao’s role on board—​she was acting as Jessa’s guardian and proxy in managing Fairfax interests until Jessa came of age. I quickly located Orion and charged over to his station. I allowed brief greetings, a hu
g, before I launched into my directive.

  “Do you think you could reprogram Lori to search for pings from Rori down on Earth?” I asked, keeping my voice low so the whole bridge wouldn’t know our aims. Xiao and Jon stepped aside, creating a one-sided visual shield so Orion and I could talk and be less likely to draw notice.

  Orion’s eyes darted around, and then he leaned in closer to me. “You want me to hack into the AI?”

  I nodded. “Like you did before. Hugo said you hacked into my drawing tablet.”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “That was more like . . . I convinced Rori to do it for me. She’s a sophisticated AI. You don’t hack her.”

  “Okay, then convince Lori to search for Rori’s pings.”

  He shook his head. “Lori is a different story. They have the same base programming, but at some point, the Lady Liberty reined her in. She has far less latitude, and to reprogram her would require serious skill.”

  “Can you do it?”

  Orion squirmed, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes,” he finally acquiesced, and quickly followed up: “But if I get caught, I’ll be arrested. Likely charged with insurrection or mutiny.”

  “We won’t let that happen,” I reassured him, even though doing so was far beyond my means. I improvised. “Jessa owns the Lady Liberty. She can protect you. This is our only hope for finding Hugo alive.” A ping sounded in my ear. It was my comm device reminding me that Jon and I had to return to the Stalwart in no more than eighteen hours. “The thing is, I need you to do it in the next eighteen hours.”

  “No way.” Orion was emphatic. “A reprogramming hack like you’re asking will take days, maybe even weeks. And that’s if I forgo my normal job, and don’t get caught.”

  “Can you . . . unleash her, then? Undo whatever limitation they put on her, then convince Lori to reprogram herself?”

  He seemed to chew on that. “That might work, though if I’m caught, it’ll be even worse than a simple reprogramming hack. If Lori evolves in the . . . wrong direction, she could kill everyone on board. A self-aware AI is not something to play around with.”