Cooling systems. That gave Lucas an idea. He typed a few commands into the computer console. The screen displayed a warning message, and he jabbed the override button with his thumb. This wasn’t something any sane pilot would do, but his situation called for extraordinary measures.
The engines at the back of the ship hissed loudly, and immediately everything outside the canopy was obscured by a thick cloud of water vapor. Moskowitz swore. “What the—”
Lucas popped the canopy and jumped out. Moskowitz was already crouching down behind the engine nozzles, waving her tablet in front of her in an attempt to clear the air. Tali grabbed Lucas’s arm with a we’ll-talk-about-this-later expression and dragged him to the exit in the back corner of the hangar.
As soon as they were in the corridor outside, Lucas pulled off his helmet. “Clever, huh? I did that once by accident with Aunt Kira’s mining-truck racer. It looks bad, but really it’s just—”
“Shut. Up.”
Tali half guided, half dragged him through the mazelike corridors of the base, her fingers digging painfully into his upper arm. She relaxed her grip a tiny amount as they passed by a sleepy-looking cadet guarding the doors that separated the naval base from the civilian colony, but the guard didn’t seem to be the slightest bit interested in them or what they were doing at this hour. Resuming her iron grip, Tali marched Lucas across the courtyard of the main pressure dome. A few recently arrived boys and girls who hadn’t adjusted to colony time were playing near the big central fountain. The kids paused their game of tag to watch with curious expressions as Tali led Lucas down a ramp that led to the commercial hangars. Finally she stopped outside hangar three, where the Josey Wales was docked, and let him go with a little jerk that made him stumble and almost fall.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” she fumed. “Do you know what would have happened if she’d gotten a good look at you?”
“What was I supposed to do?” Lucas asked, massaging his arm. “Hop out and say, ‘Oops, sorry’?”
“Never again, understand? We’re never doing that again.”
Did she think she’d actually done him some kind of favor? “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like—”
“Is there a problem?” a voice asked.
Lucas turned and saw Tomas Adebayo coming down the gangway of the Josey Wales. His long black hair was knotted at the base of his neck, Belter-style. As he walked around the ship toward them, his prosthetic legs clanked loudly on the floor of the hangar. When he saw Tali he stopped, putting his hand on the hull of his ship to help keep his balance.
There was a moment of silence as Tali and Tomas stared at each other. Well, Lucas thought. Here we all are. . . .
“Hello, Nat,” Tomas said finally. “It’s good to see you.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.
Tomas nodded as if this was a perfectly reasonable request, but Lucas could see that the words stung. “All right,” he said. “It’s good to see you, Cadet Natali Chen. That’s what you go by now?”
Tali’s breath hissed through her nostrils for a moment, and then she whirled around and strode back toward the naval base. Tomas watched her leave, a conflicting set of emotions playing out on his face. When she was gone, he turned to Lucas.
“Do I want to know what happened?”
Lucas swallowed and gave a quick shake of his head.
“Then get into your bunk before I decide to ask.”
2
THE NEXT MORNING, Lucas’s father seemed to have forgotten all about what had happened the previous night. Except that was almost worse than if he’d brought it up right away, because from long experience, Lucas knew that his dad never forgot anything. At breakfast they talked through the repairs and maintenance work his dad had planned out for the day, using a marker to scrawl out a list on the front of their tiny autopantry. By lunchtime the two of them had disassembled and checked over the entire portside hydraulic system. Tomas had immense patience for work like this. Lucas followed along and helped as best he could, but his mind was on Tali and the Orpheus, who would be leaving orbit in just a few hours.
“It was nice seeing Tali, wasn’t it?” Lucas asked as his father opened an access panel on the underside of the ship to inspect the control system cabling.
His father’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly. After a moment he nodded in that polite way he reserved for people who said something stupid that he didn’t think was worth arguing about. “It’s good the two of you keep up.”
Why do I do that? Lucas wondered. Why do I bother bringing her up? It was as if there was some kind of pressure inside him to hear her name spoken, so that the more his dad tried to not talk about her, the more desperately Lucas wanted to.
It was weird to think that Lucas himself was now the same age that Tali had been when she’d broken the news to him that she was leaving for the academy. His first thought had been that at least the fights between her and their father would now be over, but that sense of relief had turned out to be overly optimistic. Even after she left, it was as if the argument between the two of them still hung in the air of the Josey Wales. Lucas couldn’t even understand what they were angry about. His dad had never been fond of the Navy, but he didn’t hate it the way a lot of miners did. And though Tali had always been the sort of person to dream about bigger things than a mining ship, she had never despised the life they’d led growing up. But suddenly that summer, it had been as if a switch had been flipped and the two of them had become different people.
When he’d pressed his sister for an explanation—how had she gotten accepted, and why was their dad so angry about it?—she’d said something vague about her Martian birth certificate and a relative of her mother’s who had helped her get into the school. No matter how many times he’d asked, she wouldn’t tell him any more than that. His dad wouldn’t even let him finish the question before he’d cut Lucas off with a curt “I’m not talking about it.”
And then, just like that, she was gone. Not just away from home, but gone, as if history had been rewritten and Tali had never been a part of their family. He’d thought that the fights between his father and his sister had been bad, but they were nothing compared to the silence.
“I don’t know what she’s here for,” Tomas said, pulling out a thick strand of multicolored wiring. “But I don’t think it’s good.”
For a moment Lucas thought that his dad was talking about Tali. Then Tomas nodded toward the front of the hangar, where a woman in a naval officer’s uniform was standing with her hands behind her back. Lucas sucked in his breath. Why would a Navy officer be here in the civilian wing? Had someone discovered what had happened last night?
“How about you go ask her what she needs?” Tomas said.
“Me?”
“Yes, you,” Tomas said crossly. “Seems to me she’s either extremely lost or she wants to talk to us about something.”
The idea that she was here to talk to them was exactly what Lucas was afraid of. He took a deep breath and walked over to where the woman was standing, giving her what he hoped was a relaxed, natural smile.
“Hello. Can I help you with something?”
“Are you Lucas Adebayo?” the officer asked. Her petite build made her about as physically unintimidating as she could be, but she carried herself with the confidence of many years of authority.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas said, his voice faint.
“I’d like to speak with you and your father.”
His dad was already walking out toward them, wiping his hands on a stained red towel. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Captain Sanchez,” the officer said, reaching out her hand.
“We’ve got nothing illegal on board,” Tomas said. He folded up the towel neatly and put it in his back pocket, ignoring Sanchez’s proffered hand. “But I can’t stop you from looking.”
“I’m not here to search your ship, Mr. Adebayo,” Sanchez said, pulling back her hand. “I’m here to talk t
o you about Lucas.”
“Lucas?” Tomas asked, frowning. “What about him?”
About the fact that I’m about to go to jail for stealing a ship, Lucas thought. “Captain Sanchez . . . ma’am—”
“Let the captain answer.”
“I understand your son is quite an accomplished pilot,” Sanchez said. “And while his schooling has been nontraditional, he’s scored very highly on all the standardized tests.”
“His schooling has been very traditional,” Tomas corrected. “For a boy growing up in the Belt.”
“Yes, of course,” Sanchez said. She produced a folded piece of paper and handed it to Tomas. “This is a letter to you from the admiralty.”
As Tomas read, Lucas craned his neck to try to see the contents of the letter. Was it a warrant for his arrest? A summons?
Tomas frowned and folded the paper. “I’m sure you mean well by this, Ms. Sanchez. But our answer is no.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to discuss that with Lucas?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.
Tomas pursed his lips and didn’t answer.
“Discuss what?” Lucas asked. What was going on?
“They want you to be a cadet,” Tomas said. His voice was hoarse, almost a growl. “On the Orpheus.”
“A cadet?” Lucas repeated, as if the word were in a foreign language. His brain struggled to understand what was happening. Sanchez wasn’t here to arrest him—she was here to recruit him. “But the Orpheus leaves tonight!”
“I don’t believe she’ll leave without me,” Sanchez said dryly. “I’m her captain.”
The blood rushed to Lucas’s head. Was this really happening, or was he in a dream? The captain of the Orpheus was here to personally invite him to be a cadet? There was only one explanation: Tali had done it! He mentally took back every angry thought he’d ever had about her.
“Tell me, Ms. Sanchez,” Tomas said. “In the whole history of the Navy, how many Belter kids have been invited to that school of yours?”
“None,” Sanchez replied, unfazed by Tomas’s accusatory tone. “But I believe this change is long overdue. It’s the right thing for the Navy and the right thing for the school.”
“It might be,” Tomas said. “But is it the right thing for him?”
Sanchez looked at Lucas with a curious expression, making him feel as if he were an insect being studied under a microscope. He shifted uncomfortably but kept his eyes locked with hers. Maybe his dad needed convincing that this was the right thing to do, but he didn’t.
“All I can promise is that he’ll be treated fairly. The rest is up to him.” Sanchez looked at her watch. “But he’s right—the Orpheus leaves at twenty-two hundred, which means you’ll need to decide quickly.”
Lucas straightened up. “Of course I’ll—”
“Lucas,” Tomas said in a warning voice. “You and I will talk about this in a moment—after the captain here takes her leave.”
“But—”
“Lucas.”
“I hope to see you on board, Lucas,” Sanchez said. “But your father isn’t wrong. It won’t be easy, and I wouldn’t blame you for saying no.”
She gave them both a polite nod and walked away. Tomas shoved the letter into his pocket and climbed up the gangway into the Josey Wales.
“Dad,” Lucas said, following along behind him. “You have to let me go. You have to!”
His father stopped halfway down the main corridor of the ship and turned toward him. “Didn’t you hear her? She said it herself. You don’t want this.”
Why was everyone trying to tell him what he wanted? Lucas knew exactly what he wanted. “But even you say it’s the best school—”
“It’s the best school for idiot groundhog kids who’ve never been to space in their life,” Tomas said. “But you’re a miner. You’ve been flying since you could walk.”
“Not like that,” Lucas said, pointing upward in the general direction of the Orpheus. “Not in ships like that.”
“Ships like that go around harassing good people. Impounding their cargo. Throwing them in jail. You were there when that fellow searched your cousin Ivy’s ship. Remember what he called her, right to her face? Remember how he tore everything apart, even though he knew there wasn’t anything to find? It took the three of us all day to put her cargo hold back together.”
“Not everyone in the Navy is like that,” Lucas insisted. “And I’m not going to turn out like them.”
“That’s what I thought about your sister!” his dad shouted.
The word “sister” echoed around the cabin. Tomas’s face twisted with anger and pain and regret and a half-dozen other emotions that Lucas couldn’t even recognize. His breath hissed through his nostrils, and his eyes were red and glassy.
“And now look at her,” Tomas muttered. “Tells everyone that she’d never even been to the Belt before she joined up.”
What could Lucas say to that? His dad was right. When Tali had left the Josey Wales, she’d become a different person. She’d rejected Tomas completely, and on the rare occasions when Lucas got a chance to spend time with her, it felt like there was a million-kilometer gulf between them that he couldn’t bridge, no matter how hard he tried. But how was it fair to blame him for that? It seemed like no matter where Lucas stood, he was always in the crossfire between his father and his sister.
“Did anyone talk to you about this?” his dad asked suddenly. “Anyone from the Navy? Anyone from the Belt?”
Lucas looked at him in confusion. What was he talking about? Who else would have talked to him? “No, Dad,” he said. “I mean, not other than just now.”
His dad stomped down to the engine compartment and stopped. He put his hand on the wall and bent his head down as if he was carrying a great weight.
“If you went, you’d be on the same ship as her.” Tomas’s voice was flat and emotionless, leaving Lucas to wonder whether this would be a good thing or a bad thing. Lucas knew his dad better than anyone else in the world, but sometimes Tomas Adebayo was still a complete mystery to him.
“Finish the diagnostics on the attitude rockets,” his dad said without looking at him. “The transducer will have to keep for now.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucas mumbled.
His dad took a deep breath. “After that, pack your bags and get yourself cleaned up. You don’t want to show up covered in hydraulic fluid.”
It took Lucas several seconds to put this together. Pack his bags? “You mean you’re letting me go?”
“Yes, I’m letting you go,” Tomas said, sounding as if the words were physically painful for him. “But only because I’m worried that the alternative would be even worse.”
Lucas wanted to ask what he meant by “alternative,” but he could see that his dad wasn’t going to say anything more. What was he afraid of? What was worse, from his point of view, than letting Lucas join the Navy?
Tomas turned back toward Lucas. “Except you have to promise me one thing. Promise that you won’t forget where you came from.”
Like she did, he didn’t need to add. Were those tears in his eyes, or just Lucas’s imagination? His dad blinked and looked away.
“I won’t,” Lucas said. He wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him tightly. “Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Tomas grumbled. “A few days from now, you may wish I’d stuck to my guns.”
It took Lucas all of five minutes to change his clothes and pack up a duffel bag containing everything he wanted to take with him to the Orpheus. He hardly had any physical possessions on board, since every kilogram of extra mass on the Josey Wales meant they burned more fuel and earned less profit. Once he’d packed up a few extra jumpsuits, a small hygiene kit, and a tiny, lightweight photo cube, his corner of the ship’s sleeping cabin was practically empty.
“Come on, Dad,” he called out, climbing into the cockpit and securing his bag underneath the copilot’s seat. He flipped on the nav computer and looked up the orbit o
f the Orpheus. By the time Tomas joined him in the cockpit and settled into his own seat, Lucas had the course mapped out.
“Not leaving much for me to do, are you?” his father said, pulling off his prosthetic legs and strapping himself in. He flipped a switch and the hangar doors opened. “Go ahead, take her up.”
With practiced ease, Lucas lifted the Josey Wales up off the hangar floor and out through the doors. With the course laid in, he could just let the nav computer do the work, but he liked to fly her by hand and see how close he could come to matching the elegant three-dimensional curve that he’d plotted. He took the Wales in a set of slowly widening orbits, increasing his altitude until he’d matched that of the Orpheus.
“You know,” Tomas said contemplatively, “I’ve been flying in the Belt for thirty-odd years. I’ve flown to every part of the solar system a dozen times over. But this is the first time I ever flew toward a Navy cruiser.”
He pressed a button to open a comm link. “Orpheus, this is the Josey Wales requesting docking clearance.”
There was no response. “Orpheus, this is—”
“I heard you the first time,” said a man’s voice over the radio. “I suppose it was too much to ask you to arrive on schedule?”
Lucas and Tomas exchanged a look. What did he mean about a schedule? “Got here quick as we could,” Tomas said.
“Well, watch the docking connector—we just had it painted.”
Tomas took over the controls and nudged them toward the Orpheus while Lucas kept his eyes on the sensor display. “Lineup good. Touch in three, two, one . . .”
There was a tiny jolt and then a series of clanks as the two docking connectors mated with each other. A light on the control panel flashed green.
“All ashore that’s going ashore,” Tomas said with a forced smile.
Lucas unstrapped his safety harness and grabbed his duffel bag. He floated after his father down the main corridor of the ship until they reached the airlock.
“Last chance,” his father said, putting his hand on the control panel. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
The Orpheus Plot Page 2
