by Holly Ice
Sabine huffed. ‘They made themselves appear non-threatening, worked with the bear’s instincts. Knowing your enemy is the best way to defeat it.’ She shook her head. ‘This concludes our training for the day. Nanites cure minor injuries quickly, but broken bones should be set in health before they heal. We’ll regroup the day after tomorrow.’
The other applicants cleared out, giving our group a wide berth. Sabine eyed me, then left with them. I looked between Siti and Quinn.
‘Thank you for being there. You two kept my head on my shoulders.’
Quinn shrugged. ‘You had the plan.’
‘Like she said, we’re lucky it worked.’
‘If it didn’t, we still had the spears. Thanks for teaming up with us.’ Quinn patted my arm and headed for the stairs.
Yara stuck her head over the railings. ‘Siti, are you coming to health or staying with the kin kid? Ratan was pretty beat up.’
‘I’m fine here.’
‘She’s not even injured.’
‘No, she’s not.’
Yara scoffed. ‘Fine. Suit yourself.’ She climbed upstairs, favouring her better leg.
‘You didn’t have to do that. I don’t want to cause you trouble.’
‘Don’t worry about it. You’re not as friendless as you think.’ She patted me on the shoulder, almost a mimic of Quinn’s gesture, and headed home.
A lump clogged my throat and I blinked rapidly. The support I’d wanted from Ludis for days, Siti, my old enemy, had given without prompt.
Chapter 8
It took deep breaths and four flights of stairs to get my emotions back under control. I missed my best friend. He’d watched his video sometime this morning. Without a reply, I didn’t know how he was, and I wouldn’t abandon him to the emotional fallout, no matter how distant he felt.
C-1’s committee room was empty, but the larger part of the deck hummed with chatter. Aina assured me he’d be in there, somewhere. Navigation was a technological deck, filled with screens, data points, and camera feeds facing outside space. The viewing panels were closed, far too disorientating at the speed we were going, but that didn’t stop the main room being busy. Crew crowded around data panels and committee members studded the area, including the captain.
Navigation rushed, riled up, from panel to screen, too quick for ordinary activity. Something must have happened. My heart thumped as I listened and read screens from the door, but I couldn’t see anything to worry about. I couldn’t see Ludis, either.
Rima caught my eye and waved me in.
I pushed past avid volunteers and stationary committee members until we were close enough to talk over the rabble.
‘I heard you did well with today’s test?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t break my leg… I suppose that’s success.’ I checked the room’s corners and peered over heads but there was no sign of Ludis’s shaggy hair. Did he not make his extra shift?
‘Yes, the injuries were extreme. We plan to discuss future activities more closely.’ She opened her arms to include several committee members, but none turned our way. In fact, a few hunched further over screens in their efforts to ignore our conversation.
I checked my comm again, but there was still no message from Ludis. ‘The others would likely appreciate it. Over a third are in health.’ Was he avoiding me? He had to know I’d be looking for him.
‘I’m glad your team escaped unscathed. The committee is pleased you applied yourself.’
‘Thank you.’
Her words were pretty but the committee members around us seemed anything but pleased I’d done well. It didn’t worry me. I’d proved I could compete. The committee would see that too, once they reviewed the test.
Rima squeezed my arm. ‘Did you come to analyse scans? There’s plenty to do. I can find you work.’
‘I… no, sorry. I came to find Ludis. Have you seen him?’
‘Oh. He’s in the next room.’ She pointed through a doorway over my shoulder, hidden by a heavy control panel which jutted into the room, the light inside so dim it barely breached the shadows.
‘I see it. Thanks.’
She returned to her conversation with the head of research and development, and I left her to it. As much as I’d love to listen in on the latest Ristar news, Ludis was my priority.
He sat alone in the small, dingy side room, his face lit by screens filled with the planet’s approximate landmasses. Blues and greens were vivid and in promising ratios, even with the blobby coastline, but how much was wishful thinking and how much was fact? I touched a large continent.
Ludis tensed and jerked back as if I’d zapped him.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
‘I’m fine.’
He zoomed into a smaller continent, expression surly, but I wouldn’t let him brush me off with substandard scans. Our scanners were months from Ristar. No doubt these estimates would change drastically yet. His analysis could wait ten minutes.
‘How did the video go?’
He shrugged.
‘Don’t want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’ He played with the screen, head down.
I couldn’t read his expression. ‘Why not?’
‘I talked about it all morning, with Mum.’
‘So you did watch it. Is Aina okay?’ She’d seemed bubbly via message, but if they’d talked all morning, she could have worked herself into a state.
‘She’s fine.’
‘Did you want me to check on her? I’m free now.’
‘You’re busy with your programme.’ I’d never seen him so cagey, guarded. Teasing words from him was never this hard. What was going on?
‘I wanted to check everything went okay. You said you’d let me know.’
‘I didn’t want to talk it through a second time. That’s all.’
Was it? I stepped forward. He shunted his chair back, the legs squeaking across the deck. A table and more than a metre of deck lay between us.
‘You’re acting like I’m a threat.’
He eyed me. ‘The whole exploration team took system nanites, right?’ There was far too much tension in his shoulders for this to be a simple query.
‘Yes. Is this about the side effects? My fever’s already gone. Ashoka’s has too, I’m sure.’
‘It’s not that.’
‘What then?’
He gritted his teeth. ‘I can’t believe the committee approved them.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate that they’re swimming about inside you. The things they can do to you, Ashoka, everyone in the team… it’s irresponsible!’
The silence drew out. I didn’t know what to say. He sounded like the paranoid crew that quit the team. I’d expected concern, maybe a lecture, but this? It wasn’t him.
‘I think you’re getting too worked up.’
‘You wanted to know about my video? It showed me how much nanites made us suffer. I don’t want that for you, or the ship.’ He was still tense but no longer about to explode.
‘The committee weighed the risks. Nanites aren’t going to revert to bad code after centuries without issue. Whatever you saw, it won’t happen to us.’
‘They infected the entire solar system. It’s not worth the risk, especially when you consider why it happened.’
Ah, so his video had given away that nugget, too. That explained a lot. ‘That’s scary, I know, but we have a chemical fail-safe.’
‘So did they. It didn’t work.’
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Reasoning with him was not working. Here I’d thought I’d be a friendly shoulder… ‘We’ve tested our tech thousands of times over the years. It’s safe.’
‘I’m worried. These things spread so easily before, and we still don’t know what made them change and act like they did.’
‘I understand, but they don’t spread now, and the mission needs them.’
‘Need is a strong word. Aren’t you worried?’ He looked me up and down, his lips thinned to a line.
The p
hysical and mental space between us had never felt so vast. I’d wanted reassurance that fail-safes were in place – the chemical, and the year-long life limit – but I was far more worried about what I’d face on the ground.
‘No, I’m not. I trust the committee.’ I eyed the deck between us and sighed. ‘Why are you so far away?’ He’d been jumping away like… that was it. He was worried the nanites would spread. I frowned. ‘You know, if I was infectious, nanites would already be replicating in your system from your time with Ashoka.’
‘I’m clear. I asked health to check.’
‘You checked!’
‘I had to. No one else is monitoring this experiment.’
‘You sound as paranoid as the worst of them.’
‘You call it paranoid, I call it cautious, and the “paranoid” crew members aren’t the only ones against this. It wasn’t a unanimous committee decision.’
He’d had a busy morning to find all that out. I frowned. The committee decision would have been reached behind closed doors on C-1. ‘How do you know what was decided?’
‘People talk. Like I said, they’re unhappy. This should have been a ship decision. It’s not just the team that’s affected if this goes wrong.’
‘It’s not me you need to convince.’
‘I want you to drop out and deactivate the nanites.’
‘You can’t be serious. I thought you supported me!’
‘I do, but my video showed me what nanites can do to the human body. I don’t want you to end up like that. I don’t want Ristar’s system to be infected before we arrive. Please, Errai.’
‘Me quitting makes no difference. I’m not the only one on the team.’
‘It makes a statement.’
I laughed. ‘If you want a statement, convince Yara to quit. That will get people talking.’
Ludis stared through me. ‘Whatever they showed you wasn’t enough.’
‘Our warning video? Why? What did you see?’
He pulled his chair back to the screens and hunched over them. ‘I saw my mother die.’
I swallowed. That was awful, and the shock explained his knee-jerk reaction. Tank kids all saw their parents at varying stages of the disease, but death on screen? That should have been censored. I’d give him a hug, but he wouldn’t want it, not in this state.
‘I’m sorry, Ludis.’
‘Quit the programme. Please.’
‘I understand you’re upset and worried, but I can’t. You were right before. I need to use my talents. Today even went well.’
‘I want you safe. If that means you’re stuck in the kitchen for another few years, so be it.’
He’d always pushed me toward one ideal or another, but I wasn’t having it, not after all the work I’d put in. ‘I’m going to see this through.’
‘You’re being foolish.’
‘You’re not the first to call me that.’
He wasn’t seeing sense, but as we locked eyes, he didn’t seem to be wavering.
‘I should go see Aina.’ She’d know how to talk to him.
‘Don’t!’
‘Why not?’
He gestured to the length of me.
I looked at the ceiling and took slow, steady, breaths until I was able to look at him without knuckling his nose. ‘I am not infectious.’
‘She’s the only parent I have left.’ His hands were in fists.
‘Fine. What about Ashoka? Did you ask him to quit, too?’
He frowned at his comm. ‘Not yet.’
So, was this just about me, or was it his principles? Ashoka had to know something.
* * *
Ashoka’s door was a run down to C-8 and across the deck from Micah’s. My breath hardly hiked. I smiled: the nanites were kicking in. And then it hit my gut. The nanites were kicking in, and this was what had Ludis treating me like I was contagious. Would Ashoka have any insight, or was he in isolation too?
I knocked. Ashoka answered promptly, and he was alone. His lip had already scabbed over, the cut almost healed. I tested my knees and they didn’t sting either.
I tapped my mouth when Ashoka tilted his head. ‘Nanites worked fast.’
He grunted. ‘You coming in?’
‘Please.’
Quinn’s bedroom door was shut, but Ashoka’s wasn’t. He’d sketched over the plain grey bedroom walls with bold life drawings, mostly male forms and lotus flowers, though I supposed that shouldn’t be a surprise. I averted my eyes from his twisted bed covers. Ahead, the common rooms were the same as they had been a year ago – messy but plain.
Ashoka led me to the sofa. A well-rubbed bald-headed laughing Buddha sat on the table in front. I smoothed its green head for luck and rearranged the wooden beaded bracelet over its shoulders.
‘I like the drawings.’ I waved toward his room. ‘Did you do them?’
‘Yes, but you’re not here to view my work.’
No, I wasn’t. ‘It’s Ludis. Have you talked to him?’
He crossed his arms and leant against a wall. ‘I don’t want to get in the middle.’
‘It’s not like that. I’m happy if he’s happy.’
He nodded. ‘So… why are you here?’
‘Ludis’s video.’
‘What about it?’
‘He hasn’t talked to you?’
‘Not yet. Those videos put us through the emotional wringer. I wasn’t expecting anything straight away. Is something wrong?’
I’d barely spoken to Ashoka, even when Quinn and I were dating, but the way he gnawed at his lip made the words come easy. ‘I went to see him. He was nervous and jumpy and told me to stay away from Aina.’
Ashoka dropped his lip and smiled. ‘A lot of tank kids push people away after. I wouldn’t worry about it. They just need time.’
‘Are you sure? He was paranoid, said the warning video we watched wasn’t enough, talked about how much damage nanites can do. He wanted me to quit the programme.’
‘Caution is common after a video, but asking you to quit…’ Ashoka glanced at his comm. ‘He was worried about the side effects and pestered me with messages since I last saw you. I thought it was him being overprotective.’
I’d thought the same, when that was all it was. ‘When did you last hear from him?’
‘He messaged me a few times this morning, said something about meeting people. After that it went quiet.’
‘Was that before the video?’
Ashoka bit his lip. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe you can talk to him? He said his mother died on film.’
Ashoka’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t know. I knew he had a nav shift and assumed he’d catch up after. Is that where you found him?’
‘In a dark room, by himself.’ I shoved my hands in my pockets. ‘He’s acting like nanites are a serious threat.’
‘After what he saw, his mind must be in chaos, not to mention his emotions.’ Ashoka frowned. ‘Maybe it was too much, hoping this would work out?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ludis and I gave this a go before.’
‘You did? When?’
‘Years ago. We were kids, really. We didn’t take it too seriously.’
‘What happened?’
‘Bad timing. With a video so graphic… now won’t be the best time for him to have a relationship. He needs a friend that understands, not a lover.’
I leant against the sofa and watched emotions play across his face. ‘What are they like, the videos?’
‘Difficult. It’s like watching the warning video but worse, and better. You’re finally seeing – meeting – the person who gave you their genes, life, and yet you know this is the only contact you’ll ever have with them. My mum was crying, telling me all about her family, about how she would have brought me up…’ He closed his eyes. ‘My dad didn’t even know her, you know? That was hard. I thought they’d be a couple.’ He smiled. ‘They disagreed on everything, too. I mean everything!’
‘How did their gen
es get paired?’
‘A machine. A computer decided I’d be optimum healthy offspring.’
‘I’m sorry. You must have wanted to say so many things, ask questions.’
‘That’s the way it is. Videos are their last words. In some ways, it’s like losing a parent on the ship, but watching them die in front of you? I can’t imagine it.’ He pushed his curls back. ‘Ludis learned who his parents were and he’s already lost them, seen their end. This could be him working through his grief. Time helps sift out what’s important to our lives today. I’ll talk him through it.’
‘Thanks, Ashoka.’
He smiled. ‘You know, your blue pancakes helped me put my video behind me. A change in the little things brought me back to the present.’
I smiled back, strangely touched. ‘Should I make Ludis some?’
‘Doubt it’d work twice. Why were they blue?’
‘The yellow colouring ran out on the last plate.’
‘Oh. I thought you tried to make them inedible, with what you said in the food hall.’
‘Maybe some of them.’
‘So you did! At least you have a sense of humour.’
‘You thought I didn’t?’
‘It’s hard to tell. You don’t talk much around us tank kids.’
‘They don’t exactly encourage chat.’ Though I had to admit, talking to Ashoka had been easy. He was so open. I could see why Ludis liked him.
‘Right. Give Ludis time. He’ll work it out. If he doesn’t, we’ll ambush him and drag him to health,’ he said.
‘Thanks. I hope we don’t have to.’ I headed for the door but glanced back. ‘You two are a better fit than I thought. I’m sure you’ll work things out.’
‘We’ll see.’
I opened the door. ‘He’ll have to. Relationships are what keep us going in this bucket.’
Chapter 9
The committee doors looked like any other doors. They were designed the same, in the same factory, by the same people, but I paused outside them, listening to murmurs from navigation across the deck. Even those rooms were hushed with the entire committee waiting for me.
My comm vibrated again. I shook my wrist until the notification cleared. I didn’t need another reminder. I’d been awake over an hour, yet I felt as wobbly as I had in my first steps after the official summons. What did they want? What could be important enough to pull the committee from Ristar scans and landing prep?
