Book Read Free

Forbidden Planet (Worlds Apart Book 1)

Page 2

by Rinelle Grey


  They still did. This was just a glitch. Temporary. He’d find a way around it. Once the news wasn’t so new no one would care that he’d made one stupid mistake.

  He sat down, flicked on the TV, and stared at the news of protesters in the Urslat streets. He shook his head. They didn’t even care about it going on their records anymore. They had nothing left to lose.

  The video feeds switched from country to country, the images all the same. The numbers were too great. When Space Force officers tried to disperse the protestors, the situation escalated into riots.

  The intercom buzzed and he jumped up. Milandra must have left her key card behind when she flounced out. He tried to keep the smile off his face, so she wouldn’t hear it in his voice. If she thought he was laughing at her, she’d be furious.

  He pressed the button. “Landy?”

  “Why would I be Landy? Doesn’t she have a key card?” Kerit’s voice responded.

  Tyris sighed and buzzed his brother in.

  When he opened the door, Kerit thrust two bottles of soda into his hands. “Hey, bro. Put those in the fridge.” He walked through to the living room and threw himself onto the couch, plopping his feet up on the coffee table. He picked up a half-eaten bag of chips Tyris had left out last night and tasted one experimentally. He shrugged then munched noisily.

  Finally, he looked over at Tyris, still standing in the doorway. His eyes narrowed and he stopped, handful of chips half way to his mouth. “What’s up, Ty? Something wrong?”

  “Milandra walked out on me.” He needed to tell someone, and there wasn’t anyone he felt closer to than his brother, despite their differences. He lightly touched the jade dolphin hanging at his neck. “Guess the luck doesn’t work for me.”

  “Give it time, bro. The dolphin works in mysterious ways.”

  Tyris gave a laugh. His brother was firmly convinced the dolphin had brought him luck. He didn’t believe in that kind of thing. He believed in things he could see. But he liked the charm because it reminded him of the bond he had with his brother.

  “Maybe this will work out for the best somehow,” Kerit suggested. “What happened anyway?”

  Tyris put the drinks on the coffee table and sat down opposite Kerit, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been banned from having kids.”

  Kerit winced. He reached for one of the soda bottles and took a swig. “That protest thing? I can’t believe that’s still following you around. Can’t you get them to take it off your record?”

  Even though he was stressed, Tyris smiled at his little brother. He reached for the other soda and took a mouthful. “I don’t have that much clout. I’d have to do something pretty impressive to have that one wiped.”

  “Well, do something impressive then. You’re always going around doing impressive stuff.” Kerit waved a hand. As though it were that simple.

  Tyris couldn’t help a small laugh. He didn’t think his problems would be solved that easily, but talking to Kerit calmed him down somewhat. “About the only thing that impressive would be to find a hidden source of anysogen. Then I think the government would do anything I asked.” As he thought about it, he warmed to the idea. “If the record was wiped, then Milandra wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Then she’d definitely come back.”

  “So find some anysogen,” Kerit said. “Didn’t you say something about a planet no one talks about? Can’t you call in a favour of some sort? Failing that, you could always find the right person to sleep with. You can charm the socks off a snake.”

  Tyris stared at his brother. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Not the charming the socks off a snake bit, the lost planet.

  He’d first heard of it by chance. In his second year of college he’d begun an assignment on the development of the anysogen engine, but hadn’t been able to find information on the planet where the precious gas had first been discovered. Since the breakthrough had been made a mere thirty years ago, around the time of his birth, it should have been public knowledge.

  The mystery had intrigued him, and he’d even gone so far as to write his entire paper on the lack of information. His professor returned the assignment, unmarked, with only the note that if he wanted a job in the Space Force, he should resubmit the paper. He’d been given a two week extension. Though this only increased his interest, Tyris promptly obliged and submitted a safer report focusing on the first interstellar space flight.

  He’d dreamt of flying into space since before he could speak. In fact, his parents claimed that his first word had been ‘star’. He wouldn’t do anything else that might potentially damage his career.

  Since that time, anysogen had become so scarce he didn’t think finding it would damage his career at all. In fact, it would probably save it.

  Only four planets had been found containing the precious gas that allowed their ships to fly faster than the speed of light. They’d searched in vain for more planets, but ironically, their range was limited by the fuel shortage. Now there wasn’t even enough to reach beyond explored space, to search out new planets that might solve their overcrowding problems. There was barely enough to keep ferrying settlers and supplies back and forth from the currently settled planets.

  One day soon, they’d run out. Then space travel would go back to being painfully slow, with passage between the colonial planets taking months or years, not weeks.

  “I think you have something there, Ker.”

  “I do?” Kerit’s face registered surprise then approval. He winked. “I take it you have someone in mind?”

  “Something like that.” He suspected that going after the planet he was thinking of—one that had been removed from the history books despite the riches it contained—had its risks. No point in embroiling Kerit in it.

  His brother’s record was clean. Best to keep it that way.

  *****

  Tyris kept his back straight as General Kendal paced the room. The chip in his upper arm still stung, but he didn’t wince. Before he approached the general, he’d made sure to keep the appointment to have the chip implanted. It looked better if he appeared to be obedient. He needed every edge he could get. What he was asking for wasn’t exactly by the books.

  He tried not to let his eyes follow the man, tried not to let any hint of desperation show in his face.

  “You know how short of anysogen we are,” the general said finally, turning to face him. “This is a big ask.”

  “I know, sir.”

  The general sighed. “Why couldn’t you ask for a normal ship? We only have two HSLD-SV’s, and both of them are prepping for immediate dispatch when the results of the current outer space survey come in. There are hopes that the scientists might have found another habitable planet, and lord knows we could do with one. There are plenty of ships assigned for pilot’s rec leave. Won’t one of them do?”

  Tyris didn’t want to give away his reasons. Not yet. “How about the Mark II’s? Surely they won’t be sent that far? They’re just sitting in port gathering dust. Wouldn’t it be better that they get a bit of use now and then?”

  The general pursed his lips, his brow creasing. “The Mark II’s don’t have the capacity of the Mark III’s, no. Every planet that’s within their fuel range has already been explored. Officially, they’ve been retired.”

  Tyris ran over the specs for the Mark II in his mind. Their scanning capability was slightly limited due to a weaker signal. They could only scan when the shields were down, leaving the ship exposed for the duration of the scan. But that shouldn’t pose a problem for his plans. So long as they could detect anysogen. That was all he needed.

  The general searched Tyris’s face, then sighed. “The Hylista is due for a maintenance flight next week. If I schedule that with your vacation days, we just might be able to swing it.” His face grew serious. “You’re not planning anything stupid are you?”

  Tyris shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  Chapter 2

  Even the warmth from the fire
couldn’t combat the winter chill in the air. Holding in a sob, Marlee stared out the open window at the few goats picking at the dying vegetation, and shivered.

  The fields were bare, the harvest done. The trees had all lost their leaves.

  The bleak view suited her mood perfectly.

  She heard boots stomping mud off on the rush mat outside the door and drew in a shaky breath. Scrubbing at her eyes with a corner of her apron, she jumped off the end of the bed to pull the patchwork quilt over the mattress. The front door was out of sight, but she could imagine Nelor walking in as clearly as if he stood in front of her.

  She smiled sadly at the image. The beard he’d been growing dominated his face and made him look a little like his father. Would it last the winter, or would he shave it off half way through because it itched, as he had last year? She ached at the thought that she wouldn’t be around to see which it would be.

  He hummed softly, a sound that usually made her smile. “Six eggs today, Marlee,” he called out. “Looks like the lanterns in the barn are making a difference. We just might eat eggs this winter after all.” They clinked together as he placed them in the basket on the table.

  “That would be a nice change.” Marlee hoped her voice was steady. How could she break the news to Nelor? She took another shaky breath and focused on the bed. She tugged at the corners of the quilt, pulling out the wrinkles. The familiarity of the task comforted her a little.

  Nelor’s footsteps crossed the room, and his hands touched her shoulders turning her around. “Marlee, what’s wrong?”

  When he pulled her into his arms, she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “I’m not p-p-pregnant,” she managed to say.

  Nelor held her while she sobbed uncontrollably. “Oh, Marlee…” His voice broke. “Are you sure?”

  Marlee nodded, not trusting her voice. She’d tried to convince herself when she’d felt the first hint of cramps in the early hours of the morning that they might be a sign of pregnancy. They weren’t.

  Nelor remained silent. What could he say? Their best efforts had failed.

  They had already been together for the allotted eighteen months, even though the time had seemed so short. Marlee cursed the silent, invisible gas that covered the planet. It wasn’t even any use to them, since the ship they had arrived in couldn’t use it. Her stepfather had always said it would save them. That someone would come looking for it and rescue them at the same time. But that had never happened.

  The council told them they were lucky that the only side effect of the anysogen was reduced fertility. They were lucky that Zerris was so close—close enough for them to be able to make it here when the meteor had hit Semala. Maybe they were right. It was better than being dead, like everyone who had been left behind.

  Right now, that was a small comfort.

  Right now, she had to accept that her time with Nelor was over. No matter how much she wanted them to stay together, the council wouldn’t allow it, not if they couldn’t have children.

  “They don’t know yet.” Nelor’s hands slipped down her arms to clasp her fingers. “If we can just stay low for another week, maybe we can have one more chance? You could tell them you’re late? Buy us some time?”

  Marlee bit her lip. She wanted to. Wanted that extra time so much. One more chance could change everything.

  Who was she kidding? After eighteen months, how could one more month make any difference? It would just be putting off the inevitable. The last week had been bad enough, waiting and hoping, constantly on edge. She couldn’t face it again.

  When they first moved in together, she’d been optimistic, parroting words about the time it took to conceive, ignoring the fact that Nelor wasn’t her first partner and this wasn’t her first attempt. But she couldn’t fool herself any longer.

  Someone knocked at the door and they both froze. Marlee’s heart skipped a beat and Nelor’s fingers tightened on hers.

  “I’ll get it,” Nelor said, his voice heavy. He walked to the door, his shoulders slumped.

  When he opened it, Marlee wasn’t at all surprised to see Yasmyn, her mother, and Nerris, Nelor’s father, standing in the doorway.

  “Can we come in?” Nerris asked.

  Nelor nodded and stepped aside to let them in.

  An awkward silence hung in the room. Nerris cleared his throat, but Marlee’s mother spoke first. “Do you have an answer yet? Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

  Marlee hesitated for only a moment. Lying would only prolong the misery. “No, I’m not.” She reached blindly for a seat, collapsed into it, and dropped her head into her hands to hide her tears.

  “I’m sorry, lass,” Nerris said, and he spared a look at his son as well.

  Numbness seeped into her bones. She was tired. So tired.

  “Just one more month,” Nelor pleaded.

  His father shook his head. “I’m sorry, son,” he repeated. He put his arm around Nelor.

  Her mother reached out to hug her, but Marlee pushed her away. Even as she did it, she knew she wasn’t being fair. Her mother hadn’t made the rules. She simply helped to enforce them. But right now, the difference seemed inconsequential.

  “Now, Marlee,” Yasmyn said. “You know this is the only option. It’s time to move on.”

  “Move on to what?” Marlee glared at her mother, her vision blurred. “There’s nothing to move on to. Find another partner, another chance of having a baby, right? Who with, Mother? Everyone here has either proved infertile, or is too young or too old. Or they already have a family.”

  “Calm down, Marlee. Don’t be dramatic. You know as well as I do that we need more children. Everyone is in the same situation, and we all need to work together if we are to survive.”

  As a child, her mother’s no nonsense way of dealing with problems had helped pick her back up. No matter how bad things seemed, her mother found something positive to say, even if it was just to remind Marlee that it could have been worse. It had always helped her to keep her chin up.

  Today, it wasn’t working.

  “You’ve made your point. Can’t you just leave me alone now?” Her voice wavered and her throat ached.

  “Come on, son,” Nerris said. “A clean break is best. Get your things and come home.”

  Marlee’s head jerked around. “Can’t you at least give us a minute to say goodbye?”

  “Of course,” her mother said quickly, when Nerris opened his mouth to object. “We’ll be waiting outside.

  The door closed behind them and Nelor heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Marlee. I wish I’d been able to give you a baby.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Marlee squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “It could just as easily be me.” She reached out to take his hands, not caring if he saw her tears. She didn’t need to pretend in front of Nelor. Of all the people in the village, he was one of the few she could be herself around. And now he had to leave.

  Tears glistened in his eyes too. “I hope things work out for you next time.” It was a standard response. Expected.

  She didn’t want to hear it. “I don’t want to do this again,” she said quietly. “I can’t.”

  Nelor brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Yes you can. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And I know you’ll make a wonderful mother someday. Don’t let what we’ve shared stop you from achieving that.”

  She didn’t feel strong. She wasn’t like her mother. She couldn’t live the way her mother had. “It’s not just about having a baby. I don’t want to be with someone else, live a life with them that should have been with you.”

  She didn’t want to spend her days with someone she couldn’t be open with, couldn’t cry in front of, or, worst of all, someone she was afraid of. Someone like her stepfather.

  “We don’t have any choice, Marlee. The council’s rules apply equally to everyone. And if they didn’t, where would we be? Our population would drop even more quickly. We might not like the idea of changing partners so
often, but it’s the only way to make sure there even is a next generation.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  Marlee shook her head. She didn’t want to hear it even though she knew it was true. She and Nelor could have been happy together. They had been.

  “I can’t keep trying anymore,” she said, her voice dull. “I won’t go through this again.”

  Chapter 3

  Tyris tossed and turned on the Hylista’s firm mattress, the sheets tangling around his legs, gripped by the same dream that had haunted him every night since leaving Urslat. Some corner of his mind was aware that it wasn’t real, but that didn’t stop it playing out in his head yet again. He relived the moment of showing Milandra the letter and having her walk out, jumbled up with the sting of the lawyer delivering the divorce papers.

  He sat up in bed in a cold sweat, almost bumping his head on the steel bunk above him. Staring around the room, he struggled to reorient himself. That’s right. He was on board the Hylista, searching for the mysterious anysogen planet.

  It couldn’t all be over. His marriage couldn’t have ended that quickly. Tyris ran a hand through his hair. The sooner he found the planet and returned home triumphant, the sooner these recurrent dreams would stop.

  A persistent beeping echoed around the cabin, and Tyris shook his head. What was that noise?

  The planet detection alarm! He threw back the covers in a sudden rush of adrenalin. He’d set it to sweep as he entered another empty area of space, one that might be big enough to house a solar system.

  He tried not to get his hopes up. This wouldn’t be the first false alarm. Despite the Hylista’s advanced features, the planetary detection system could still be tripped by a large asteroid or comet. There was no reason to assume that he’d found the planet he was searching for.

  If it even existed.

  A week into the search, having checked at least half of the sites he’d marked as being big enough to contain a solar system, he was beginning to doubt he’d ever find it. Perhaps it had been removed from the star maps because it wasn’t here anymore. If it contained enough anysogen, there was every possibility it had been hit by a meteor and exploded. Hadn’t he heard that explanation before? Maybe he’d seen it on some conspiracy forum. Not that that meant it wasn’t true.

 

‹ Prev