The Rainbow Maker's Tale

by Melanie Cusick-Jones

  Chapter 2

  I was re-reading my answer – perhaps diatribe was a more accurate description – on the reaction of the human race to climate change and global upheaval. My essay definitely had a bias towards the surveillance states and population control that had developed in response to global warming. It was not a positive picture of humanity and I wondered how much my recent irritations with life on the station had influenced this. Or, how much the behaviour of our ancestors was the source of my frustrations with life on the station. It was open for debate either way.

  “Testing period ends in five minutes.”

  I did not look up to acknowledge the familiar electronic voice when it made the announcement. The room was quiet now: only Cassie and myself had been using the manual input systems, and been given the extension to the normal examination period. Our classmates had all left twenty-five minutes ago.

  Finished with my own review, I turned my attention away from the screen. There was nothing else in the empty room to focus on and so I absent-mindedly watched Cassie as she skimmed through her answer. She paused every now and again to make a correction.

  Cassie had just flopped backwards in her seat, stretching out her arms and shoulders as though she were particularly stiff, when our screens closed down and the exam ended with another announcement from the speakers. For a few seconds I remained in place, before realising that Cassie did not appear to be in any hurry to get up. I wasn’t about to change the habit of a lifetime and start being chatty, so decided I may as well get out of there.

  Hastily shoving my chair away from the desk, a piercing screech tore through the silent room and I cringed internally. How loud? Unsurprisingly, my lone companion was shocked by the noise and jerked around in her seat to stare at me. I had already moved quickly – motivated by embarrassment – and was by the door when it occurred to me to apologise for startling her.

  “Sorry,” I muttered as quietly as I could, whilst still allowing Cassie to hear me. My voice carried easily in the otherwise soundless room, although the silence following my apology seemed loud by comparison.

  I busied myself with gathering up my possessions as a distraction, hoping to escape as speedily as possible. It took me a few seconds to realise that Cassie was actually talking to me, not allowing me to be invisible as I normally was.

  What was she saying?

  “…forgotten I wasn’t alone in here…brain is half-asleep…”

  Only half-hearing Cassie’s words I thought it sounded like she was apologising to me. What would she be apologising for? That can’t be right, I must have misunderstood what she’d said.

  Looking up, in an attempt to work out what she was saying, I saw that Cassie was standing beside her desk now. She waved her arm towards her viewing screen, but she’d stopped speaking – I had no idea what she had said.

  What did that mean? I was more confused than ever. Feeling rather lost, I opted for a non-committal nod, which would hopefully not mean anything stupid or offensive.

  I was wrong – whatever she had taken it to mean – my nod was not favourably received. Cassie’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though I had irritated her, although I couldn’t see why such a simple action as a shrug would have that effect. Her expression changed swiftly once more and I saw she was trying to disguise her initial annoyance.

  Cassie was the one person I would have a reason to talk to and this was not how I would have wanted the conversation to go. I opened my mouth with the intention of apologising again. Maybe even admitting that I hadn’t actually heard what she’d said in the first place, if it made things better. It was already too late. Cassie’s eyes had drifted away from me to focus on the floor instead and she began making her way towards the door.

  Surely I could work out how to say a couple of sentences to a random girl in my class? It wasn’t exactly rocket science! I wished it was, because I was darn good at astro-engineering. Fidgeting nervously with the strap on my shoulder bag – trying to make it exactly straight across my body – I debated saying something else, but the words stuck in my throat and so the silence remained. I was so out of practice interacting with other people.

  Stop squirming! I was frustrated with myself now. At the silent command my hands dropped uselessly to my sides. I was about to leave the room when I noticed Cassie’s school sack sitting on the floor beside my foot and spotted an opportunity. Swooping down, I slid my hand fluidly through the arm loops on the bag, lifting it quietly from the ground. This might be a chance to make amends for whatever offence I had caused a few moments earlier.

  “Here you go,” I said as politely as I could, trying to convey my courteous intentions as I held out the bag towards Cassie.

  She looked up – appearing surprised by me again, but perhaps more positively this time? Her eyes flickered to mine and held my gaze.

  It was the first time we had ever stood so close together, and I was near enough now to see the green irises of her eyes spark as they conveyed disbelief…then gratitude…softening to something else I couldn’t translate. I hadn’t seen the expression before, on Cassie’s face, or anyone else’s for that matter – my lack of understanding being a by-product of my lonely existence.

  “Oh!” Cassie exclaimed, her eyes flashing once more. “I mean – er – thanks!”

  We waited a second or so in silence. Cassie appeared a little nervous herself now and took her time making up her mind what to do next, before she reached out and took the bag I was still holding for her. She swung the strap onto her shoulder so quickly it almost smashed into the viewing screen next to her. I nearly laughed aloud as her expression rapidly registered shock, then embarrassment – dropping her eyes from mine – before she regained control of her features. My mouth twitched into a half-smile that I was unable to disguise by the time she looked back at me and for once – feeling bold and brave – I didn’t look away, but met the full force of her inquisitive eyes.

  Cassie was an interesting person to read. Her features remained largely still with only minute movements and changes to her eyes indicating what she was thinking, or perhaps feeling. I was already aware of her expressive eyes, but was surprised by how much more I could read in them now that she was standing a mere arm’s length away. She opened her mouth once, preparing to say something before she seemed to change her mind. My mouth twitched into a wider smile as I waited for whatever it was she wanted to say; I was quite enjoying the effect my presence seemed to be having on her. It was…new.

  Only a few short moments passed, but I was aware of her gaze roaming curiously across my face, meeting my own eyes fleetingly, before darting away. “Thanks,” I heard her mutter once more. It was less than I expected after such a long silence and I struggled to interpret how her words connected with the changes in her expression. I had no time to dwell on this as Cassie reached past me to activate the door panel, a clear indication that she wanted to get away.

  No.

  I was taken aback by the firmness of my unuttered statement. I didn’t want our non-conversation to end – I wanted her to stay. Without thinking I spoke up, finding my old voice after years of silence. It was the voice that wasn’t scared to be heard, that didn’t want to remain invisible – I hoped that Cassie would stop and answer.

  “What did you think of the exam?” My words rushed out in an eager half-jumble. It worked. She paused and turned back, but did not look at me properly.

  What does that mean? So much was inferred by Cassie’s body language, but I was so out of practice at speaking with someone, I had no way to translate any meaning beyond what she actually said.

  “Not too bad really, but who likes exams?” She smiled, shrugging lightly at the same time, as if dismissing her own words.

  Her response felt slightly unnatural, like it was an automatic reply. I was still processing this, when without thinking I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.

  “I quite like them.” I admitted and then shrugged, unconsciously
mimicking Cassie’s previous movement before I could stop myself. I was speaking just to fill in the gap and realised that I was saying what I thinking, without pausing to edit. Now, I had to say something more to try and explain myself, but as I hurried on I just knew I was making it worse. “It’s something to do with the pressure I guess – and I kind of enjoy the feeling of testing yourself – ”

  Not the right thing to say, I realised. Cassie’s mouth had dropped open and she stared at me like I was crazy. Even though I regretted my unrevised honesty, I couldn’t leave it alone. My first thought was that I had to make amends, but I wasn’t sure how. This whole experience was highly confusing for me. Cassie’s reactions were not at all predictable.

  “Are you OK?” I asked, finding my voice finally. It was all I had to offer.

  For a few seconds Cassie did not answer. I had to admit, it might have been a lame thing to confess, but I couldn’t see what was so horrendously offensive about liking exams, to justify her continuing shock. Even if Cassie did not agree with me, it was hardly the worst truth I could have told her. I had plenty of others that sounded more crazy than true, even though they were actually real. As Cassie hadn’t left the room, I could only assume that she was planning to respond...at some point.

  “Yes – sorry,” she replied at length, her lips curving into a small contrite smile as she spoke.

  I frowned. Again, I did not understand what she would be apologising for and curiosity was about to force me into asking when she continued.

  “It’s just that I actually do like exams, pretty much for the reason you just said but I’ve never thought that anyone else might feel like that and so I would feel stupid saying it.”

  “Oh right…” I was unsure how to respond to her admission that we had something in common. I certainly had not expected that. Then I heard her words again in my head; she felt the same way I did, but thought that she was stupid for doing so? That didn’t make sense. As I was mulling this over I repeated her words aloud to myself: “…you would feel stupid saying what I said…”

  “No – not stupid,” Cassie interrupted immediately, attempting to explain I thought. “It’s not stupid – it just surprised me to hear you say it, I guess.” She was struggling.

  “You don’t tell people the truth,” I observed, my words sounding brusquer than I had intended them to, although the fact remained: she said one thing but meant another, based on what someone might think of that. It was an interesting reversal of my own behaviour: I stayed quiet and behaved one way, when in reality I wanted to do the complete opposite, based on what people would think. I wanted to run and scream and fight, but I didn’t.

  I was so preoccupied by my private musings on this that when Cassie replied her voice surprised me. I realised I’d spoken aloud – not just inside my head, as I was used to doing – and it had obviously offended her.

  “No – I mean yes – I do tell people the truth. That’s not what I said.”

  Her tone was defensive: she must have heard the bluntness in my unintentional observation and taken it as a criticism of her behaviour. It wasn’t her fault; it was mine. It was a statement of fact uttered by someone who hadn’t conversed with anyone – except himself – for a very long time. How many misunderstandings could you get in one, short dialogue?

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you lied to people.” I tried to clarify my earlier words, finding it hard to meet Cassie’s angry gaze. As I searched my suddenly empty brain for some something more, my nervous fingers sought a diversion and found the strap of my bag as they had before. They began ineffectually fiddling with the plastic clasp, whilst I mumbled and stuttered incoherently. “I just meant that you said something as though it was how you felt when you don’t feel that way at all…I mean…” Words failed me. “Oh forget it, I don’t know what I mean!” I tried to step past Cassie and escape into the empty corridor outside. This whole conversation was a mistake! I berated myself angrily. You’re not right for this place – and you don’t truly believe that she has answers to anything, that you don’t already know. Just stop this nonsense and leave!

  “Don’t worry about it,” I heard Cassie murmur as I passed. She sounded cautious, but forgiving, not annoyed. “I think I know what you meant.”

  My feet paused, ignoring the previous order to leave.

  Was there more for me to consider?

  I had to acknowledge that this young woman had an effect on me. Her anger made me apologetic; her forgiveness made me happy. I smiled slightly, recognising a sensation swelling inside me that had lain dormant for a long time. Then I felt sad, understanding what I had actually become during these last few years of my existence. My quest for the truth overshadowed everything, and everyone.

  The emotions and thoughts I suppressed around others on the station had moulded me into this empty vessel that moved alone through the routine of my daily life. But, the truth of this had eluded me until now. In the presence of this girl, I literally knew that I had been empty, because in that moment I became aware of a peculiar feeling inside me of filling up. Something nervous fluttered vaguely in my abdomen, matching a sensation of expansion in my chest that was not physical, but strangely other. It had taken me years to subdue, but a few short sentences spoken with her and I remembered something human about myself that I had repressed in pursuit of something else.

  Maybe the final answers I sought lay in what I had hidden, and not what I found around me? It was an interesting idea, and one I had certainly not explored before. For this reason alone, it might be worth talking to Cassie.

  “I think I know what you meant too,” I said, feeling oddly confident as I turned back towards Cassie. With my new objective clear, I intended to prolong our encounter as long as possible and ignore the part of my conscience that told me not to.

  “Where are you going now?” I sounded casual, not even having to work at being nonchalant.

  “Now?” She seemed confused, as though she were uncertain of what exactly I was asking of her. I thought it best to clarify.

  “Well – as much as you love examinations, I assume you don’t intend to spend the rest of the day in the assessment room. Do you?” I was teasing her I knew – but it didn’t feel impolite, more comical – another smile began playing cheekily with my lips as I waited for her answer.

  Cassie responded similarly, her tone mocking. “I don’t know – I do really like it in here…”

  To my surprise, I found myself briefly entranced as her green eyes flared brightly on meeting mine, and I had to roll my eyes – acknowledging her joke – to pull myself free of them.

  “I’m heading over to Park 17 – most of the other classes end up there for a bit of a wind down after the last exams.” She said.

  The park…others…her friends… I nodded in understanding.

  Right then, I probably should have walked away. My only reasons for speaking with Cassie were selfish, and it wasn’t fair to use a real, live person as part of an experiment. I hated feeling like that myself, so how could I do it to someone else? I could pretend this was for my own good: that reaching out to someone, one last time, might be beneficial, before I left the Family Quarter forever. That was a lie – and I hated lies.

  Logically, I knew that we could not be friends. Since Scarlett, I had not allowed anyone to get close to me, and now – with what I was planning to do – there was no point. Trying to be friends, for the sake of information, might get Cassie into trouble, or even risk putting her in danger.

  Knowing that all of this was true – why did I not leave right then?

  “Do you mind if I walk with you?” I heard my voice speaking the words. It was an afterthought when I assured myself it was only a walk.

  “Of course,” Cassie accepted.

  I caught myself thinking that her voice sounded eager as she answered. That was even worse: why would I be hoping for that?

  Standing aside in the corridor to make space for her, Cassie stepped out t
o join me and we walked away from the classroom side-by-side. I found myself glancing at her, examining her features when I believed she wouldn’t see me. Once or twice I thought I noticed her doing the same thing, peeking carefully at me through her curtain of dark hair.

  “Ahhhh,” I sighed loudly. I couldn’t help myself: as we emerged from the dimly lit building into the bright, almost natural daylight of the late afternoon, I felt immediately better.

  “What was that for?” Cassie laughed, regarding at me with interest.

  “The sunlight feels so good after being trapped in that little room,” I grinned back, before turning my face upward to fully capture the warm glow. It was nice to share something – even such a tiny truth about myself – with someone else. Realising this was a surprise.

  My eyes closed and I focused for a few seconds on the hot pinky-red colour of my eyelids, as they were backlit by the afternoon sun. I inhaled deeply.

  “And here’s me thinking that you love examinations… Trapped doesn’t make it sound like you enjoy them that much.”

  Cassie was teasing: throwing my own words back at me. It made me smile again.

  “That’s just the room, not the activity,” I explained, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on my face too much to turn away from it. My guard was clearly down because when a question ambushed me a moment later I repeated it aloud before I could stop myself. “Don’t you find that living here is just…” I struggled for the word, trying to tie down what the feeling I had was, “…claustrophobic sometimes?”

  As soon as the words had passed my lips I regretted them. Why would Cassie find the world as negative a place as I did? In the same instant, another thought struck me: now that I had said this aloud to someone else, I wanted to explain myself. The compulsion to do so was undeniable.

  “Even out here, I feel it sometimes.” I looked at her now, the warmth from the mirrors forgotten: I wanted to see her reaction to my feelings. “Perhaps it’s because I know that when I look up and see the sky, that it is not really the sky: there are no clouds, no stratosphere and troposphere, nothing… Just thousands of mirrors, precisely angled to follow the path of the sun as we orbit around it and recreate day and night as though we were still on Earth. It feels real, but I know that it isn’t and so that feels wrong somehow…”

  Cassie watched me closely, listening intently it seemed, as though she were truly engrossed in what I was saying. “Don’t stop,” she encouraged when I paused. The intensity of her voice was persuasive, but I felt unsure now. My earlier confidence was fading fast and revealing my thoughts unedited no longer seemed as appealing as it had a moment before.

  “Sorry – I have a tendency to waffle once I get going – you don’t need to listen to my morose views on life here,” I sighed, reining myself in. My attempt at nonchalance hit a false note and I wondered whether Cassie would notice.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to hear you speak,” she said.

  It was obvious that she was the one who was speaking without thinking now, surprising herself as well as me I thought. Cassie blushed attractively, blood pooling beneath the soft, creamy skin of her cheeks as she struggled to explain her words, clearly trying to take back what she had just openly admitted. I suppose it was a little mean of me not to step in and save her the effort, but again I selfishly found myself enjoying her unease, hoping that it was more to do with me than it probably was.

  “What I meant is you’re normally so quiet – ”

  She sputtered to a stop and I could see her mentally revising her words before she continued. I decided it was too cruel to leave Cassie scrambling for apologies and so I turned away before she looked at me, feigning indifference to make her feel better. It was a struggle to keep the smile from my lips, but I managed it.

  We lapsed into a comfortable silence, moving through the late afternoon pedestrians meandering on the plaza, each of us preoccupied with our own thoughts. I paid little attention to the people milling around – reverting to my normal behaviour in company – with the exception that I was thinking for once. Right now, I was thinking about the pretty girl walking by my side.

  Now that I was focused, I realised that the comfortable silence was no longer so simple. Long ago, I had been told that Cassie held answers, before I really knew what the problems were. From everything I knew of her, that seemed doubtful, but at the same time, it felt a shame to waste the short time I would have with her. I wanted to know more. If I could, I’m sure I would have wanted to know everything – I always did – but that was never going to be possible. I settled for the first question that came to mind.

  “Why don’t you use automatic discourse in your exams?”

  “I don’t always use the keyboard,” she disagreed. “I was using the headset today.”

  A new wariness crept into Cassie’s eyes, and I watched her for a moment; mildly surprised that such a simple question would make her seem so on edge. I might not be good at reading body language, but I definitely got the feeling that she didn’t wanted anyone noticing her behaviour as being different. It seemed odd, and in my experience, being odd usually meant something.

  “Not for the whole exam though – what made you change?” I pressed on, looking for an answer.

  “I just like to use the keyboard for answering certain types of question.” Cassie shrugged casually, as though to convey that it was nothing.

  “What types of question?” I couldn’t harness my curiosity. Then, found myself wondering if perhaps Cassie’s reaction wasn’t wariness, but irritation. Why did I always have to know the answer to everything? I was so annoying.

  “It’s usually the longer, essay-type ones. I find it easier to arrange my thoughts in my head and then type them out, rather than trying to organise and regurgitate them simultaneously. I find myself doing that with the headset sometimes.”

  Cassie answered me – irritating as I perhaps was – and I realised that she actually seemed to enjoy responding to my odd questions. I was busy realising this, not expecting her to turn the focus back onto me.

  “What about you? I noticed you using the keyboard this afternoon – ”

  How do I answer this? Honestly?

  Well, to tell you the truth, Cassie, I was daydreaming about how – out of pretty much everyone I’ve ever met on the station – you hold a particular fascination for me, which I’ve never been able to understand. Instead of answering the exam question, I was pre-occupied with completing an in-depth assessment of the creamy appearance of your skin, but then you turned around and saw me and so I pretended to be typing, so you wouldn’t think I was weird. Or, even worse, a bit of a stalker.

  No. The truth was not an option.

  Keep it simple, I told myself. “I’ve seen you use the keyboard in the past and wondered why – just thought I’d try it.” Accompanied by a relaxed shrug, I was sure I looked the picture of casualness.

  “And?” she encouraged, her eyes widening to emphasise the question.

  “And…” I echoed her drawn out tone. “Once I got used to it, I found that it helped keep thoughts clear in my head for answering the question, especially once I was planning out more complex arguments.” I was slightly surprised to find that my excuse was not actually a lie. Perhaps using the headset wasn’t everything it was made out to be.

  “Do you enjoy history?” Cassie asked as soon as I finished answering her last question.

  I thought she seemed genuinely interested…well, honesty was fine for this one I supposed.

  “Yes, but not like you do.” I forgot myself and answered a little too honestly; my knowledge surely revealing the particular interest I paid to her likes and dislikes. Stalker, I accused myself again.

  “What do you mean?”

  Of course my odd knowledge was confusing to her – it baffled me – I tried to be dismissive, back to being casual and thinking before I spoke this time. “Nothing bad, just that I always got the impression it was one of your best s
ubjects, along with Literary Studies...”

  Apparently Cassie accepted this simple explanation. “And yours would be Astro-engineering I take it?” she replied.

  Her familiarity with my preferences startled me; perhaps I was not quite as invisible as I thought? Don’t flatter yourself, I scoffed, you’ve come top of the class every year; she’d have to be pretty obtuse never to have noticed that! Ignoring the pragmatic voice, I spoke truthfully once more, wanting this stranger to understand something about me – something real.

  “Engineering is probably my best subject, but I think my favourite is Biochemistry.” I told her.

  A small groan of aversion escaped Cassie’s lips and at first I thought I had said something wrong – how could I have offended her? – then I saw the expression on her face and remembered that they were probably the least popular subjects for everyone else at school, why would Cassie be any different?

  “What’s the matter? You’re good at both of them!” I laughed lightly, causing her to grimace even more.

  “I get by,” she amended. “Don’t get me wrong, I find both of them interesting, but neither of them is a natural strong point for me.”

  “You know what’s funny?” I realised suddenly, speaking my thoughts aloud as my feet froze mid-step – walking and talking seemed a little difficult for me today.

  Cassie paused too, curious once more. “What?”

  “Our parents have exactly the same jobs and had their children at the same time, but you and I are quite different.” Surely our genetically similar backgrounds and upbringings by parents working in the same professions would have generated some similarities between us? Even our basic academic preferences appeared at odds with one another…

  Cassie was regarding me with confusion, she didn’t appear to be convinced by my observation. “Why would that make us alike?” A dismissive shrug accompanied her words and I realised that she did this more than I’d ever noticed before: she repeatedly shrugged to down play her words or opinion. Was she less confident than I’d always thought?

  Pushing this observation aside, I answered her question, trying to explain myself. “Well, just that with the whole nature/nurture thing, you would have expected some similarities, but it seems we’re quite different.”

  Cassie moved off, apparently satisfied with whatever information my limited answer had given her. She had walked a few steps ahead of me before I reminded my own feet to move as well. With a couple of long strides I fell back into step beside her, content to simply walk beside her and remain silent for a while. I focused on my feet, padding along easily next to hers and lost myself in blank musings.

  The time passed far too quickly and the next thing I knew we were entering Park 17. Curling over the entrance to the park, the archway – designed in the style of heavy Victorian ironwork, but made of plastic – felt odd and contrived to me. The familiar stirrings of irritation swirled in my stomach as I noticed this.

  Crossing into the park, our footsteps made a new sound as the pathway changed from plastic to wood. It was constructed from the trunks of banana trees that were grown in the agricultural sector – its purpose purely decorative and intended to give the sense of a home none of us had ever known. I couldn’t imagine that the use of wood for this purpose was accurate: it would not have been durable enough to survive the natural elements on Earth for long, nor did it match the images I’d seen of Earth cities or settlements. As usual, the lack of authenticity aggravated me.

  Looking for a distraction from the acidic thoughts beginning to bubble in my mind, I quite gladly turned my attention back to Cassie.

  The features of her face seemed relaxed as she watched her own feet, examining the wooden pathway we were clumping along. She was still lost in her thoughts. I wondered whether she saw something different here than the frustrating artifice I did and I found myself eager to know what absorbed her thoughts so completely.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked gently, not wanting to startle her. It didn’t work and Cassie jumped at the sound of my voice. Turning abruptly towards me as though she had forgotten my presence altogether – easily done I’ll admit, given the effort I normally put into being invisible – Cassie began silently interrogating me with her eyes. In the first instance she looked apologetic, but that rapidly melted into the same unidentifiable expression I’d noted earlier. She was so confusing to me. There were questions in her eyes that I longed to understand, but it seemed she was in no hurry to make them known. The light rose that blossomed on her cheeks as she blushed at some unknown thought surprised me. Huh – that was attractive and frustrating…

  “Can I ask you something?” she finally replied, preventing me from bursting with impatience.

  I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak without my eagerness leaking through. She’ll think you’re completely crazy if you don’t restrain yourself, I warned sternly.

  Cassie’s face scrunched up as she concentrated – apparently searching for the words to articulate her question. For a moment I was distracted by how cute she looked when she did this, before my impatience began to leak through again.

  How hard can it be to ask a question?

  At length, Cassie found her words.

  “Do you ever feel like you miss the Earth? Even though you’ve never been there. Do you think it’s possible – or even normal – to miss something you never had?”

  Her green eyes sparkled now, inquisitive and eager to know my answer and I almost lost myself in them. I’d never had Cassie’s friendship – her attention – before now, but I knew that when I left the Family Quarter I would miss her. I would miss something I’d never had.

  But, did I feel the same way about the Earth…?

  Pulling my gaze reluctantly away from Cassie I focused blankly on the park around us, before lifting my eyes upwards as I pondered her question and considered how truthful or not I should be. Not that it matters, I reminded myself of my earlier promise: this is a one-off. You won’t need to see her after today.

  “I think it’s possible – likely even – to miss our original home. I wonder if it’s the same as the way I think about the sky: because I know it isn’t real, I find it disappointing. None of this is real – unlike Earth – and so it becomes false and you miss the reality.”

  “But, do you feel like you miss the sky?” Cassie’s insistence made it sound as though I’d answered the wrong question. “Do you miss the sky as though there had been a time when you sat beneath it to watch cloud patterns spreading over you, or marvelled at a great expanse of sapphire blue, unmarked by anything else…?”

  While I thought for another few seconds – trying to clarify what she was asking me – I couldn’t help smiling. Her tone was so endearing and wistful when she was talking about this; it made her sound like she was from another time, another world.

  “Is that funny?” she asked, sounding unsure as she noticed the expression on my face.

  No, not funny. I shook my head.

  It appeared that was not enough. Cassie’s eyes remained fixed onto mine, demolishing my defenses, and when I spoke again all I could do was be honest.

  “I was smiling because you sounded…happy or free or…something…” My voice sounded almost as wistful as hers, and I was unable to really find the words I was looking for. Nothing more came and so I rushed on without thinking. “I don’t know – when you spoke like that – you sounded like one of the romantic poets expounding on the beauty of nature asking me if I missed the hot and copper sky, the bloody sun at noon.”

  Poetry?! I instantly scoffed at myself as the words passed my lips and I had to look away from Cassie. You’re quoting poetry at this girl?

  I know…I know…I almost muttered my frustrated response aloud, but not quite. But yes, quoting poetry to someone you’ve barely ever spoken to…it was obvious I had issues – far too many to mention!

  I waited nervously. Waited for Cassie’s laughter, or confusion, or…somethi
ng. There was just silence. Shocked silence?

  “I’m surprised you remember that kind of thing so well,” Cassie said at length.

  She sounded normal, perhaps even slightly impressed I thought. Even so, I couldn’t look over to meet her gaze to verify whether she had me pegged as crazy or smart.

  “So…” Cassie continued. “Do you actually miss the sky, or is it something else?”

  I smiled once more, as I became sure that I hadn’t ruined the conversation with my openness, and answered her new question. “It’s the reality I miss – or crave is probably a better description – I want to know what it feels like to truly be human. I want to live on the planet that created us, rather than floating around a few hundred miles away from it in space. We came from the dust of that place and I want to feel the same dust that created us beneath my feet.”

  “But there’s nothing left!” She was shocked. “When the expats came aboard the space station they were the last humans who were going to survive. The rest were…doomed!” Her voice faltered at the end, as though her initial reaction was being re-considered as she spoke.

  That was not what I had meant. I wasn’t thinking that I actually wanted to go back to the desolate Earth that our ancestors had left behind to protect us. Just that the reality of what had existed there would be natural for us to crave. If Cassie reacted so strongly to this, how would she feel about some of my more radical notions about what was and was not right about the community we lived within?

  I thought it best to appease her for now – make the most of our conversation while it lasted, as it would be the only one – and so I steered us away from this contentious topic. “I suppose you’re right. Anyway, that’s all a bit deep for a post-exam conversation, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” Cassie looked relieved that I was not going to press the issue.

  “What are you going to do with the holidays?” I enquired, opting for a nice, safe topic. It was not something I would normally be interested in – my ability to make small-talk was extremely limited – but once I’d asked the question, I realised that I might actually be interested in Cassie’s answer. Until she pulled a face that is… How did I manage to keep getting it so wrong?

  “I’ve not got any holidays. I’m going straight to my first work placement with my parents,” she revealed. “There was the option to start the rotations early if you were going for placements in the medical or engineering fields. Seeing as I had to do both, I thought it would be better to start sooner – more practice, or something like that.”

  This calmed my initial doubts that I had said the wrong thing again. Cassie was not happy with the situation, rather than me. This realisation prompted me to laugh – at myself, of course for jumping to conclusions – but then I had to disguise it as a reaction to her words. “Why the face – it can’t be that bad can it?”

  “No,” she admitted, although I got the feeling she was holding something back still. She shrugged dismissively – a sure sign that she meant something more serious than she was about to say. “It’s me being a whining teenager I suppose. It’s just as you get that bit older you realise that you’re going to become your parents one day – in some way, shape or form – and that’s quite scary. Going to work alongside them makes me feel as though it’s the first step on that slippery slope!”

  So, Cassie was scared of turning into her parents? That sounded truthful enough and the awkward smile that appeared on her lips as she said this convinced me of it even more. I felt like Cassie had told me something she’d not shared with anyone else before – I couldn’t be sure of course, but I’d never seen her look sheepish when I’d watched her with her friends – and the thought of that made me intensely happy. “I suppose you’re right.” A grin stretched my face as Cassie laughed with me.

  We were still walking. Cassie was so close beside me I could feel the warmth of her body as my arm brushed past hers. It was hard for me not be distracted from this but I was, because I just realised that this would be the end of our conversation. We were close to the centre of the park now, and a short distance away from us a group of young people were sitting around enjoying an afternoon of freedom. They were our classmates, but her friends. I would not be joining them.

  Unwillingly my feet slowed not wanting to leave her, but unable to go on further. One or two members of the group looked up as they recognised Cassie approaching – both of them boys. It did not surprise me that their faces wore particular expressions of interest.

  “Are you not joining them?” Cassie asked, noticing my pace slowing.

  I hoped I heard a trace of disappointment in her words. “No, I’ve got a better idea – why don’t we go somewhere else – just us…” I wanted to say, but of course I didn’t. I couldn’t. One time only, remember.

  “It’s a little…crowded for me.” I said instead, smoothing my face into a mask so that I could not betray myself any further. This had been a mistake – a pleasant one, but a mistake nonetheless.

  “You don’t have to go,” Cassie murmured as I was preparing to leave. I barely heard her words: my mind was elsewhere now, disengaging rapidly as I planned my escape.

  “I have to get home,” I replied flatly. No other excuses presented themselves and it seemed pointless to even try. I was already walking away. “I might see you on work experience if you’re with your parents.” I knew that I wouldn’t. I wasn’t taking an early rotation. “Bye Cassie.” It was an afterthought…a final polite farewell to close the conversation…you can’t finish without saying goodbye.

  “Balik?!”

  I heard Cassie call my name and pushed my feet faster, moving me away as swiftly as I could without running. If I turned around, I wasn’t sure I could actually control myself.

  Did she call out to me again?

  I couldn’t be sure, but thought I heard my name a second time. Raising my hand briefly in farewell, I continued in the opposite direction and did not look back at Cassie.