by Beth Martin
I huddled under two thin blankets and ate a chewy ration bar then washed it down with two pouches of water. Thankfully, the atmosphere on Zeta was humid. The water-collecting buds on the bottoms of each pouch would refill them. But in the extreme cold on the dark side of the planet, I didn’t know if there was enough moisture in the air for the buds to keep up with my thirst.
How far had I gone? With the increased gravity, my speed was bound to be a bit slow, but the terrain was easy, and I had been walking for at least the equivalent of a work shift. My guess was I had traveled fifteen miles or so.
Look at the stars, you idiot.
I laid back and pulled the blankets tightly under my chin, then looked from one constellation to the next, focusing finally on Sirius low on the horizon. Was it any lower than it had been when I had began walking?
Even though I hadn’t thought to reference it earlier, it wouldn’t hurt to measure the angle between the star and the horizon. Even though I couldn’t actually see where Zeta ended and the sky began, I could spot the line where the splattering of stars suddenly gave way to flat darkness.
I pulled a circle of paper from my kit which would have been used to filter running water if there had been any. I folded it in half and removed a lace from one of my boots. I tied one end to the middle of the filter and attached a ration to the other end to use as a weight. With my makeshift inclinometer, I measured how high in the night sky Sirius was. After marking where the lace hit the filter I now had the angle above the horizon.
Doing a few calculations in my head, I figured out the approximate distance to the dusk belt—about 1600 miles. It felt like my heart quit beating for a moment and my breath froze in place. There was no way I could walk that far in this cold. I started to shiver under my blankets. What was I supposed to do?
After feeling sorry for myself for a while, it dawned on me that I had heard her. “Lola,” I called out into the darkness. “What should I do?”
There’s nothing you can do. Just get some sleep.
•••
I woke up shivering with my body curled up in a ball trying to conserve warmth. The two blankets were wrapped around my chest. I was trembling so much, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get my muscles to do anything else. Get up.
I tied the two blankets into a makeshift poncho and wore it over my shoulders before digging through the kits. All of the items inside that were intended to be useful were worthless right now. I tossed out the water filters, compass, emergency pad, first aid kit, and anything else that was the slightest bit heavy that I didn’t think I’d need. I wasn’t expecting to actually make it to the dusk belt, but I wasn’t yet ready to stop trying.
The only items I held on to were the water bags, ration bars, and extra flashlight. I shrugged on the kits and started walking. I kept my light pointed down as I walked, watching the red sand give way under my boots. I walked for a couple hours before stopping to take a drink of water. The pouches had gotten cold while I slept and were mostly ice now. I didn’t want to waste any energy on warming up the ice, but I knew I needed to stay hydrated. I cut a slit in the top of the pouch and crunched off a chunk of ice with my teeth. Lightning bolts of pain shot through my jaw as I tried to chew.
I walked as I continued to suck on the ice block instead of crushing it with my already sensitive teeth. Turn left. It wasn’t like I’d make it to the dusk belt anytime soon, so I redirected my path to see if there was any variety in the landscape in a different direction.
It was oppressively quiet. In the utter silence, I could hear every sound generated by my body: the steps of my feet, the thumping of my heart, the cold wind through my lungs, and the gurgling of my stomach acids breaking down another ration bar. The thoughts echoing through my mind felt so real, I could hear them ringing in my ears. I tried to recite passages I had memorized and sing songs from my youth to fill the silence and quiet my thoughts.
I continued on like that for hours. I pulled out a ration bar and chewed it as I continued to walk. I hadn’t gotten much exercise on Paradido, and now my whole body was aching from the strain I was forcing on it.
Just when I was about to change course, I saw something far off in the distance. Below the line where the stars stopped was a barely perceptible glow coming from the ground. I wasn’t sure what was emitting the light, but guessed that this was what I was supposed to find.
By the time I got close enough to see what was ahead, my body was completely exhausted. I sat in the sand, staring at the expanse in front of me. Keep going.
“I can’t. I’m too tired.” There was a depression in the ground with light filtering through the red sand at the bottom. It looked like there was something just under the surface. Maybe it was an abandoned vehicle or a discarded flashlight buried in the sand. It’s neither. Go check it out.
With my last ounce of strength, I stumbled the rest of the way to the light. When I got there, I pushed aside the sand to unveil a milky-colored surface which was softly glowing. Whatever it was, it was huge. I kept clearing away sand, but the object below extended in every direction.
I was too tired to keep exploring. The surface was warm, so I laid down on the smooth, glowing thing and instantly fell asleep.
•••
“What kind of job would you like?”
After stumbling along the streets of Covington, the capital city of Kappa, for a few days, someone had pointed me in the direction of a public shelter. A couple months prior I would have been insulted by the idea of going to one of those places, but at that point, I was ready to admit that I had hit rock bottom and could use the services a rehab center could provide.
They had offered me a bed, warm meals, and clean clothing, but I had no intentions of staying for long. At the very least, I needed to get away from Kappa. Ideally, I would leave the entire planetary system. After I had used the showers and had put on fresh clothes, I did accept a backpack of provisions before getting straight to work.
That was my first priority: finding a job. I figured the career counselor at a government facility would be the best route to obtaining a position I would be capable of holding down.
“I want to be on a spaceship,” I said. The counselor nodded her head. She tapped on the panel set in her desk, probably leading me through some career-matching software. She was a plain-looking woman, but she wore dark lipstick which I couldn’t stop staring at. I should try that color.
“All right. There are many positions available on ships that most people aren’t aware of. Support staff, cooks, navigational support, maintenance, etc. What would you consider your strengths?”
“I’m intelligent. I have an in-depth knowledge of planetary navigation. I know how both a warp and conventional engine work.” I had learned a lot already from my brief stay at the academy.
The counselor smiled, her dark lips stretching to a thin line. “Sounds like you’ve done your research. That will certainly help you get a good position. You could set some of your earnings aside for flight school at some point. The one in Covington is very good. There’s also the Theta Academy, although that one’s pretty tough to get into.”
I tried to hide the disappointment on my face. My inability to see the holographic spectrum restricted me from attending any academy.
“Now, Jake, do you have any special considerations or limitations? And don’t be embarrassed about anything: I’ve helped recovering addicts, recent convicts, and even long-term wanderers get steady employment.”
“I can’t see holograms.”
“All right. Well, the clinic can set you up with an assistive device to help you with that.”
“They don’t work,” I whispered. She stopped tapping her fingers on the panel and gave me a long look. I couldn’t match her gaze and looked down at my lap. “I’ve already tried. The problem is in my brain.”
She slid her hand across the panel, probably to shut down whatever programs she was using. “It that’s truly the case, then we won’t be able to help you here.�
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“Excuse me?”
“Individuals with an uncorrectable condition require more assistance than this facility can offer. If you’re unable to function at standard capacity, even with assistive devices, you need to obtain guardianship and apply for an unfit adult grant.”
The air got caught in my throat, and I had to remind myself to keep breathing. Unfit. That was never a word I thought would be used to describe myself. “How would I do that?”
“Well, first, you would need to select a guardian. Most individuals would use a parent or close family member. If that’s not an option, the Nazarian and Ryan Institute can take in unfit individuals.”
My heart sunk into my gut. “That’s not going to work for me.”
“Then I’m very sorry, Jake, but I wouldn’t be able to recommend you to any employer.”
I nodded and stood up. I couldn’t decide who I was angriest with—Dr. Ryan for diagnosing me and prescribing the debilitating medication, this woman who had just delivered an intense blow by only doing her job, or myself. One thing I was certain of was that I didn’t need these people’s help. “I’ll just have to find a job on my own.” With that, I grabbed my new backpack and left the shelter.
I wasn’t sure where I was going, but at that moment I just needed to get away from yet another disappointing place which was supposed to help. I kept walking farther and farther away from the city center.
The industrial area was just ahead. As I passed in front of a warehouse, I heard a loud crash come from inside. I stopped and peered through the large, half-open door. There were boxes littering the floor, and a young man and woman wearing coveralls were running around, grabbing boxes, and stacking them in a trailer.
The woman looked up and saw me watching. “Hey, you! What the hell are you doing? Don’t just stand there staring, come help us out.”
I set down my pack as I approached and picked up the nearest box. With nothing better to do, I could spare a moment to help. “What happened?” I asked as I set the box in the trailer.
“They fell,” she said curtly.
It took a while, but the three of us were able to get the mess of boxes neatly stacked and into the trailer. When we were done, the woman slipped away and the young man sat at the end of the trailer. I took a seat next to him, both of our legs dangling over the edge. He pulled a small box from his pocket and slid out a slender cylinder and stuck one end between his lips. He clicked a lighter and held the small flame at the end before taking a deep breath in. When he exhaled, a cloud of smoke came out of his mouth and hung around us.
“You want one?” he asked holding the small box out to me. I didn’t even know what it was.
“No thanks.”
“I know, it’s a filthy habit. Can’t smoke while we travel, even in our archaic, bag-of-bolts excuse for a ship. Got to do it when grounded.”
“You work on a ship?” I asked.
“Yep. Where do you think all this shit came from?” He gestured to the boxes behind us we had just stacked.
“You think your ship could use another man?”
He laughed, which turned into a cough before laughing some more. “Always.” He looked up to see someone approaching. Another man in coveralls who was in his mid-thirties. “Hey, Officer Ford! This poor soul wants to know if Paradido needs a new mate.”
The officer looked around the empty warehouse and then to the full trailer. “What’s your name, son?”
“Jake Metcalf.”
“Can you lift heavy things?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You ever been convicted of a crime?”
“No.”
He nodded, looking from me to the floor then back to me. “All right, Mr. Metcalf. I’ll run your name through the social database, and if everything checks out, you got a job.”
I knew I should have told him then about the hologram thing, but this was my golden chance to get a job on a spaceship. I tried to push the details of my disability to the back of my mind. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Report here in eight days at nine hundred hours sharp.”
“Universal or local time?”
Both men in coveralls burst out laughing. Officer Ford turned and left the warehouse out the back.
“What’s so funny?”
My new companion inhaled again through the thing between his lips. “Who the hell uses universal time?”
Everyone. Everyone on Spaceship Titanium. The academy used universal time. How backward was this system to actually use their own time reference?
The warming sensation from below eased me out of my sleep. For a moment, I thought I was in my room on Spaceship Titanium, the glow reminding me of the lamps in my childhood bedroom. But instead of lying on a soft mattress, I was pressed against a hard slab.
I rolled over, half expecting to find Lola sleeping next to me, but she wasn’t there. I sat up and blinked my eyes a few times, my pupils adjusting to the soft light, but I was unable to see anything more than ten feet away. I stood and meandered for a moment to wake my senses before I looked up at the sky to get my bearings.
“What should I do?” I asked into the nothingness.
Go back. You don’t know what’s making the light.
“Sure I do. The milky-colored surface thing is making the light.”
Don’t be that dull. Go back.
I walked back over to the depression in the sand and sat down. First, I needed to eat and drink some water. I drained the last water pouch. The water collection buds weren’t keeping up with my consumption. Now I would die from the cold and dehydration.
I walked around the smooth, illuminated surface and kicked away some of the sand. It looked like the white surface didn’t end. I picked a direction and walked forward, pushing away the sand to see how far the light went.
The smooth surface extended surprisingly far. After fifty feet, there was still no perceptible edge. I kept going, only kicking away sand every few strides. A little farther, I finally found a change in the ground. There was a circle of the surface that wasn’t illuminated. I dropped to my knees and pushed away more sand with my hands, finding a seam where two milky slabs came together. I finished uncovering the circle and spotted a handle near the edge. It was a door.
I grabbed it and pulled. It didn’t budge. I gripped with both hands and tugged with all my might. I could feel sand crunching beneath the handle as I continued to strain. One more concentrated heave, and the seal broke. The door swung open, carrying me back with its great weight.
I slammed into the ground, my hands still clutched around the handle. I looked through the opening to see what was inside, but it was dark. My kits and the flashlight were laying back where I had slept. I jogged over to fetch them and quickly returned to investigate the opening.
With the flashlight on, I peered over the edge of the round opening. It was a metal tunnel leading downward with a small ladder bolted to the side. I gripped the top of the ladder and gave it a good shake. It was a little rickety, but it seemed like it would hold my weight.
What are you waiting for? Go on down.
“You seem awfully confident,” I grumbled.
You should be too.
“Well I’m the one risking my life.” I carefully eased my legs down into the hole and started the descent.
The hole didn’t go as deep as I initially thought. Within a minute, my feet were resting on a metal floor. I shined the flashlight around, trying to make out what this structure was. There was a single passageway extending from below the ladder, but it quickly turned to the left, so I couldn’t see the other end. The cement blocks were the same color as the red sand on the surface.
I followed the long hall, trailing my fingers against the rough walls.
How old do you think this place is?
“I don’t know. Older than me.”
How old are you? If she was just in my head, she should already know everything I knew. Perhaps my subconscious was trying to guide my mind to a deduction
I should have already figured out.
“Thirty-two.”
Really? You were born thirty-two years ago?
“Well, no.” My adjusted age, which was the amount of time that had passed from my reference frame, was thirty-two. But anyone who did a lot of warp travel would age less than someone who stayed in one place. “I was born 148 years ago.”
Judging by the crumbling red bricks composing the walls and the amount of sediment staining the floors, this place must have been abandoned for about that long.
“What is this place?”
“A station.” Her voice echoed down the hall like she was really there. I turned around and saw her leaning against the opposite wall of the hall.
“There aren’t underground stations,” I said.
“Maybe not in the systems you’ve been to, but they’re actually quite common.” Lola took a step toward me. She was wearing a loose blouse and skirt which were as pale as her skin. She definitely wasn’t dressed for the cold, but neither was I. “It’s called a subway. Come with me.”
I followed her as she walked down the corridor which opened up to a large, well-lit room with railings peering over the platform below and stairs leading down. I approached the rails and looked at the space below. There was a channel carved into the concrete floor with metal beams along the bottom.
Lola glanced at me and followed my gaze. “It’s called a track. There’s an engine with wheels that sits on the rails and draws power from them to travel from station to station.”
I looked over at her. She was leaning against the rail, her white hair tumbling down over the void. “How do you know that?”
She turned around and rested her back against the railing. “I told you. I’ve been here before.”
“But I haven’t. And you only know what I know…”
“Oh, boy,” she chuckled. “You’re being awfully arrogant, Jake. There are things that you don’t know that other people do.”
