by Lisa Jade
Earth is dying.
Once, Dad showed me pictures of how the planet looked aeons ago. Every ocean was pristine and crystal clear, and each patch of land was bright and green. At night, the cities would burst into life, a million lights burning their way through the darkness while the quieter areas sank into blackness.
That was the Earth I had hoped to see. But it’s not our Earth.
I press my hand against the glass and let out a long breath. We’re to blame for this. Humanity has spread like an infection along the planet’s surface, using up every part of it. Hell, the only reason Pyre exists is so that people can escape the pollution on the Mainland. And slowly, we’re spreading to other planets.
As my breath fogs up the glass, I feel a tinge of resentment. It’s not fair to just keep moving around, to keep doing harm just because we’re too afraid to die.
“What do you think?”
Isaac steps up beside me.
“The Earth looks so sad.”
My own voice is filled with sorrow, and barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah,” he grunts, “but that’s why you wanted to leave it behind, right?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the Earth,” I say, suddenly defensive, “it’s home.”
“But it’s dying. My Dad always said it was like an old apple – rotting from the inside out. There’s still a little bit of good fruit there, though. It just needs to be cut out before it rots, too. That’s why humans have to move before it’s too late.”
I open my mouth to remind him that’s not how it works, that only people like him are given that opportunity – then bite back on the words. I’d better not argue with him. He’s my only hope of staying alive.
“You’re right,” I say slowly, “that’s why we’re here.”
“Not all of us will stay in Orithyia, though. I plan to return home.”
“I wondered about that.”
He eyes me curiously.
“About what?”
“It just… it seems like everyone is here for a reason. Whether it’s because they want to spend time with friends, or have a party, or earn some cash. I’m here because this…”
I wave at the planet swirling below.
“…is all I’ve ever wanted. And there’s more to come.”
It’s true. While the sight of the Earth is humbling, I know there’ll be more spectacular views. At some point, we’ll fight our way through the asteroid belt. We’ll pass surprisingly close to Neptune. Then we’ll shoot off into the distance and explore stars and planets I’ve only ever read about in books.
But then I look at him, at the sweet boy who just doesn’t get it, and curiosity wins out.
“I have to ask. Why are you out here? What do you get from this trip?”
For the briefest of moments, his expression changes. He wrings his hands together.
“The Neptune was never about moving people from one planet to the other, Quinn.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. Look, people with ‘inferior’ genes vastly outnumber people with ‘superior’ genes. Their population grows faster than ours, too. Decades ago, someone on the Council decided that was wrong. They figured that they needed to implement a Breeding Programme for those of us who were at the right age to start having kids.”
“I’m with you so far…”
“That’s what this ship is. A kind of psychological aphrodisiac, I suppose. There’s nothing more romantic than walking the stars together – or at least, that’s the theory. We could probably make this journey in less than a month with the technology we have on board. But it’ll take two years because it needs to take two years. To allow relationships to bloom, grow, and eventually bear fruit.”
I gape.
“So this is a breeding ship?!”
He chuckles.
“Yep. Just like every other two-year cruise. I’m not here by choice, you know. But I’m in my twenties and my genes aren’t considered half bad. They consider me a prime subject for breeding, so I didn’t have any choice but to come along.”
“They can’t force you to breed.”
“They can’t, and they won’t. I have no intention of playing their game, perhaps ever. But especially not if I’m being told to do it.”
He gazes out of the window, eyes fixed on the slowly turning Earth. I nudge a lock of hair from my eye and fix a small smile on my face.
“I guess that makes two of us who won’t do as we’re told.”
We return to the Oasis to find the chaos that Isaac had warned me about. Apparently, we’re now high enough for alcohol to be considered safe again. It’s passed out heartily to anyone with an empty hand, and I notice that each sip is accompanied by a wince at the drink’s strength. It seems somewhat innocent, until I remember what Isaac told me about the trip’s true intent. Suddenly, the whole thing seems a little more suspicious.
Lucinda spots us and waves us over.
“Where the hell have you two been? Isaac, I had to pull an excuse out of my ass when Dad started asking after you.”
Their Dad’s on board, too. I had best avoid running into him; I’m sure he’d want to know who’s accompanying his daughter.
Isaac scratches the back of his neck.
“It’s fine. I’m sure he didn’t care.”
“Of course he did. I know you don’t like it, but suck it up, will you? Damn it, you’re expected to live to be over a hundred. You can spend two minutes of that humouring him.”
He looks away. Some part of me wants to ask about his Dad, and the irritation he shows at every mention of him. But now isn’t the time. Lucinda heaves a pained sigh.
“You know what, forget it. I’m here to have fun, unlike you. Come on, Quinn. Time for you to play your part.”
I nod. This is the part I’ve always dreaded; but then I think about my situation, and just how much I owe Lucinda, and the acceptance becomes a little easier.
Isaac wanders away, settling into a quiet conversation with a stocky, wild-haired man. As I watch, he points at me, and the other man smirks my way. I return his smile uneasily.
Lucinda whips off her jacket and passes it to me with an apologetic look. I get it. She didn’t want a Companion in the first place. She doesn’t think it’s very fair. But neither of us have much option here; I need to act the part, or people might wonder why I’m here. Having said that, as she walks away, swinging her hips with every step, I wonder if she even needs me. She seems pretty damn independent to me.
The red-haired girl from earlier – Sabina, I think – is back again, with Terri trailing close behind. She, too, has removed her jacket, revealing a dress that looks like it was painted on, as well as a great deal of sparkly gemstones around her throat. Both she and Lucinda are dramatic enough individually – but when they stand together, flashing their stunning smiles at those around them, nobody seems to be able to look away.
Terri steps up next to me now, shooting me a small smile. She’s somewhat diminutive, with a heavy fringe that nearly blocks her eyes. She strikes me as a strange little thing, but not altogether unfriendly. I return her smile as best I can.
“So, a Doctor huh? That’s impressive.”
Colour fills her cheeks.
“Thank you. Astronomy is pretty cool, too. How did you learn?”
My mind races. It’s commonly known that there are no Level Four Companions on this cruise. That must mean I’m from Three. I didn’t think that would be an issue – the Level is easily large enough to explain why nobody knows me – but I’m not sure how one would learn Astronomy there. Heck, I don’t even know Astronomy to the level I’m pretending to. I sniff deeply.
“Uh… I’m self-taught.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m surprised I never heard of you before now.”
I grit my teeth.
“Whereabouts are you from?” I ask, hedging my bets.
“The North side.”
“Ah, I see. That’d be why. I’m from the South side.”
> “That explains it.”
She turns back to the others now, watching them with soft eyes. They’re ignoring us altogether, knocking back drink after drink and shaking various body parts in a movement I can only assume is supposed to be dancing. I look from them to Terri and back again.
“So, uh. What made you join the Scheme?”
“Orithyia needs people with skills, right? My education’s kind of going to waste on Level Three. It’s hard to find work, even with all my qualifications. So I figure I have more potential in my future career if I head there.”
Her lip curls upward.
“I suppose I don’t have to ask why you’re here, huh? It’s not strange for an Astronomer to want to see the stars.”
“Yep. I think I need to do this for my sanity. It’s infuriating, you know. To know so much about the world out there and be unable to see any of it.”
I load the words with exhaustion, trying to seem convincing. She seems to buy it, much to my surprise. I’ve never been the best at lying.
“Terri!”
Sabina waves over her head, screeching the younger woman’s name. Terri winces a little; perhaps she’s too quiet, too shy to be suited to someone of their ilk. Nevertheless, she nods and steps closer.
“Yes?”
“Would you be a dear and get us some drinks?”
“O-of course.”
“Need help?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“No, it’s okay. I have two hands.”
With that she delves into the crowd, heading towards the floating platform that leads to the bar. I feel a pang of sympathy as she fades into the chaos. She seems uncomfortable and out of place here, amongst the noise and blinding light.
Someone gives a joyful scream from nearby and I wince. I’m not exactly comfortable here, either. I’d trade this ‘party’ for a quiet night at the Drop-off any day. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I could see outside. But the Oasis is entirely enclosed, decorated as though it were a sunny day outside. But it’s not – we’re somewhere truly incredible. Right now we’re soaring endlessly through space, like a paper plane tossed into the wind. I glance at the drunk, dancing people around me and wish they could appreciate that.
Suddenly, a deafening crack pierces the chaos. Instantly, I recognise it; the sound of metal twisting and breaking.
The party grinds to a halt, all eyes whipping towards the source of the sound; the great metal bridge across the water, which is tilted at a strange angle. The platform hangs toward the surface of the pool, and even from here, I can see the metal threads holding it up slowly snapping. But then someone yelps, and as I push through the crowd for a closer look, my heart sinks.
Terri is on the bridge. While others have darted away from it, she seems frozen by fear. Her thin arms are locked around the nearest post, her forehead pressed against it. I can see her mouth moving. She’s trying to stay calm, but she’s terrified.
The others step up behind me.
“Terri!” cries Sabina. I whip round to look at them.
“What the hell is going on?!”
“I don’t know,” Lucinda says, “this isn’t supposed to happen.”
I open my mouth to tell them to get help – after all, there are crew members lurking in every corner – but I’m interrupted by another loud crack as the platform comes free and plunges into the water. Another, strangled yelp rings out.
Terri fell in – and that platform will likely drag her down with its weight.
My mind races. Does that mean she’s stuck? Suddenly, I’m grateful for the numerous crew members still present.
Then, I pause. Nobody’s doing anything. Why is nobody doing anything? Why are we all just standing by and watching with a sick combination of horror and reluctance?
“Why isn’t anyone saving her?” I hiss. Even Sabina, whose face is filled with panic at the sight of her drowning Companion, is doing nothing. She’s screeching her name, sure, and waving her arms around as though that might somehow help. But that’s all.
Lucinda shakes her head.
“What do you want us to do? Jump in and pull her out?”
“Um, yes?!”
“Nobody on board can swim, Quinn.”
Instantly, several thoughts occur to me. Firstly – how can they not swim? Second, how stupid do you have to be to put a pool around people who can’t swim? But both thoughts are dominated by the last one, the one that screams at me from somewhere in my chest.
Don’t let anyone else die.
I burst through the crowd with all the strength I can muster, kicking off my heels as I go. A small voice reminds me that I’m not obligated to save her life. She’s a perfect stranger to me. I owe her nothing. Aside from being reckless, this is bound to draw unwanted attention to me. I should know better.
But then Cherise’s face flashes in my head, accompanied by a shiver of pain. I can’t let it happen again.
I ignore Lucinda’s shouts and jump off the edge, plunging into the water.
It’s cold. Why is it so cold?! Like ice water, sending shots of pain through my skin. Pressure builds in my ears, and I realise it’s because it’s fallen hauntingly silent around me. I open my eyes under the water and glance around. I can feel something tugging me deeper, and look down to see the metallic platform still sinking into the darkness.
Would she have fallen beneath it? Above? I look around wildly, pushing my hair back from my face. Desperation stirs in my gut, building into panic. Where is she?
I delve a little deeper, and finally catch sight of something thrashing nearby. The movement is entirely unlike her. It’s desperate, panicked - like the death throes of a wild animal.
Did Cherise thrash in the water as well? Did she feel the same panic? I shove the thoughts aside and kick towards Terri. When I get closer, it becomes apparent that she doesn’t see me. Or if she does, she has no idea how to react. Her only instinct is fear. I grasp her arm and she pulls back, perhaps thinking I’m some monster lurking in the dark and ready to attack. Her eyes widen as she recognises me – then dull as the last shred of air escapes her lungs. I pull her unconscious form over one shoulder, then fix my gaze on the light above.
We break the surface of the water and I gasp for air. It’s been six months since I last left the house, much less jumped into water this deep. Exhaustion runs rampant in my limbs, and there’s a painful tightness building in my chest. I’m not designed for this.
As the water streams down my face, I look around wildly for somewhere to climb out. Slowly, sound comes back; stunned murmuring, footsteps, the occasional distressed yelp that I now recognise as Sabina. I shake my head hard to clear the liquid from my eyes. I’m not sure where the edge is. Not sure where to go.
“Quinn!”
Suddenly, my eyes come clear. There, on the edge of the pool, crouching down to see me, is Isaac. His long hair falls forward over his eyes, barely disguising the panic there. He throws an arm out for me to take.
“This way!”
I make my way towards him, Terri still resting against my shoulder. This is harder than I’d expected. On Four we learn to swim from childhood – including how to save people. But it’s been a damn long time for me, and my body is tiring.
People shift behind Isaac. Now my vision is a little clearer, I can see the same shaggy-haired man from earlier. Sabina and Lucinda stand by too, their hands clutched together. They must see that Terri’s unconscious. Perhaps they fear the worst. Just behind them stand several crew members, each standing to attention like they did with the Captain. Ready to jump at any order. I pray the order isn’t my arrest.
I reach out for Isaac and he grabs my wrist with both hands, tugging us both from the water with surprising ease. In an instant my body is wracked with shivers from the cold, and as someone pulls Terri away I start coughing. After a moment, something warm falls over my shoulders. Isaac wraps his jacket around me and pats my back, an awkward look on his face.
“I-I can’t believe you did that.”<
br />
I cough out the last of the water and look up. Terri has been pulled into the crowd. She lies sprawled on the floor of the Oasis, surrounded by crew members who seem to be hard at work. My chest tightens. Was I too late?
But then she coughs, and the crowd relaxes.
“Get her to the nearest MedBay,” someone orders.
“What about the other girl?”
Someone glances at me, perhaps thinking I’m hurt too, but I’m already standing.
“She’s alright.”
“Take her in anyway. Can’t risk it.”
I shoot an alarmed look at Isaac, but his jaw is set. He can hear them, too. But there’s no way out of this. I adjust his jacket on my shoulders. My own jacket still sits underneath, thoroughly soaked but still covering my scar. If they try to examine me, it’s all over.
Ten
The MedBay is a long, thin room made of what looks like smooth, holographic metal. It’s oddly dark for a hospital and unusually sparse. One of the few pieces of equipment is a glass tube the size of a fishing boat, with what appears to be a plinth in the centre.
“This way.”
Someone carries Terri ahead of us. She’s awake now – but though she protests his embrace with every step, they won’t allow her to walk. Apparently, she received a small but deep cut to one side of her head. I hadn’t even noticed.
Isaac and Lucinda walk at my side, exchanging nervous glances and the occasional muttered comment.
“That was reckless,” Lucinda hisses at me, “what the hell were you thinking?”
“It’s not my fault!” I say, “what kind of ship has a pool when nobody on board can swim? That’s a design flaw, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, well. Nobody did.”
I glance at Isaac, perhaps seeking some validation, but he just shakes his head.
“It’s great that you tried to help, Quinn. But she’s right. You could have drowned.”
