The Approach (Courage Colony Book 1)

by Holly Ice

  ‘Been looking at the scans?’

  ‘Sometimes. There’s not much detail yet, but the mind fills in the empty space. It couldn’t get the water right, though.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘In the dream. The sea looked like the pictures, but it was no bigger than one of our decks and it smelt like shower water.’

  ‘Odd.’ I’d have thought the sims would have given his brain the necessary references, but perhaps those experiences didn’t register the same as normal memories.

  A loud clap made us jump.

  Sabine continued the clap slowly, leant against the video room door, and she did not look happy. She wasn’t there when I’d come onto the deck, but how much had she heard? I’d not seen her this disgruntled since shortlisted candidates had been announced in the food hall. We hadn’t said anything too unexpected, had we? It was early, and we still had no idea why we were here. What did she want, blind obedience?

  ‘Did I miss something?’ Ksenia had just arrived with Leanne and Lamar and was staring at Sabine.

  Sabine stopped clapping. ‘I’ve already heard four candidates complain about the hour, about being tired, about how much of a bully I am.’ She circled the room, glaring at us. ‘You reacted about how I expected to an unexplained wake-up call. Badly.’

  She stopped behind me and pushed a finger into my spine, forcing me forward until I arched my back and put a leg out to counterbalance. ‘You should have been here first.’ She prodded the bruising skin, hard. ‘You, Errai, sleep two decks below and are closest to the simulation room, but you arrived fifth. Did you sleep through the notification?’

  I swallowed, my throat dry, but there was no point denying it. ‘Yes. I didn’t expect a message and my comm was on vibrate.’

  ‘A terrible excuse. Your comm buzzed for ten minutes, maybe twenty, and you didn’t wake in all that time? Did you ignore it?’

  ‘No.’ Whatever call I got now, it could be important. I lived by the comm, and from now on I’d keep it on loud. ‘I slept through it and woke ten minutes ago.’

  ‘That’s even more worrying.’ She spread her hands to include everyone. ‘You’re a deep sleeper. What if you were sleeping outdoors, on Ristar? What if a strange animal crept up to your bed and’ – she gripped my shoulders tight and clamped down on my collarbone – ‘took you, for its dinner?’

  ‘We don’t know if they have animals.’

  ‘Exactly. We don’t know.’ Sabine tutted. ‘Can you at least tell me how to prevent such an attack?’

  ‘A night watch, as per procedure,’ I said, shifting my shoulders until she let go.

  ‘You might think so.’ She circled us again. ‘Truth is, night watches tire. Sometimes they doze off. They miss things. Errai, you were awake and missed me arrive, and you weren’t alone. You all need to be on alert, every moment you are on that planet.’ She stopped in front of simulation and tapped the locked door. ‘You’ll not be in here today. I need you to build stamina, to work when you’re tired until you can function at full capacity with two hours’ sleep. Think of it like special forces training.’ She grinned, and I swear it was as sadistic as photos of documented serial killers. ‘From now until I’m satisfied, you can be called to this floor at any time, with any amount of notice. I expect you to arrive promptly with no complaints and be ready to do as I tell you. Understood?’

  We nodded or mumbled our acceptance, me included, but I shared a worried look with Quinn. If we had to get here at any hour, that put an end to either of us managing more than cursory investigations of Ludis and his new friends.

  ‘Something wrong, Errai?’

  ‘No.’ I wouldn’t argue her orders, though I was pleased she’d used my name. That was the second time she’d used Errai over ‘kin kid’, but she didn’t seem to like me any better.

  ‘Then why do you look like I’ve confiscated your cabin and forced you back in with your parents?’

  ‘I like my parents.’

  ‘My point stands.’

  ‘I’m deciding which alarm will get me out of bed faster.’

  I already knew which alarm I hated most and knew it’d be near impossible to merge into a dream, but Sabine might buy the excuse. I couldn’t tell her the truth. We needed more before I could betray Ludis. And then there was the mission. I bit my inner cheek. This new schedule would curtail my Earth reading, essential revision for the mission, and it would run the team into the ground. We didn’t need to be sleep-deprived before the mission – we had enough to face – but telling her that would bring me nothing but misery.

  ‘Enough planning and wondering. Today you’ll mop decks one through three.’

  ‘All of us?’ I asked, trying to imagine ten mops on those busy floors. We’d drive navigation mad.

  ‘No, you.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Do you have a problem with that, Errai?’

  ‘No, that’s fine.’ Though it was odd. She must have switched off the cleaning bots for a few days to get the decks bad enough for us to mop.

  ‘I’m so glad I have your approval. Quinn, you have decks four through six. James, decks seven through nine. Maria, decks ten through twelve. The rest of you get two floors each. Pick between yourselves, and I want them shiny.’

  ‘Why do we get more?’ James asked, arms crossed.

  ‘Because you, Maria, Quinn and Errai acted like toddlers when you got here, crying that you’re tired. You have a problem with my teaching style, and I have a problem with your attitude. I can only hope punishment works as well for you as it does with toddlers.’

  Sabine never fussed over a stray comment here or there. Now, she was a drill sergeant thrusting mops into our hands and ordering us to do menial work in the early hours. This couldn’t all be about our reactions, not just over being tired, but what could push her to treat us like soldiers? Was it just the next stage of training, or something more?

  * * *

  Sabine finally approved my mop work halfway through first shift. I’d mopped for seven hours straight, redoing each deck multiple times until Sabine couldn’t find fault. My arms felt like lead, my legs creaked, at least I felt like they did, and my back cried every time I stretched. It was all I could do to drag myself downstairs for breakfast, stomach rumbling like thunder.

  Lightheaded, I staggered in and sniffed the air. Porridge. That was Benjie’s speciality. Sure enough, he stood behind the counter, handing three bowls to Ksenia, James and Ashoka. I’d lost track. If I still worked in food, I would have been cleaning tables from the morning rush while Benjie served. Instead, tables were stacked with dirty dishes.

  Benjie had thinned out, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. Didn’t he have any support? He was lazy, but he was also old. He couldn’t do everything himself.

  ‘Hi, Benjie.’ I weaved through the tables. ‘Who’d they put on shift with you?’

  His jaw clenched and he turned his back, disappearing into the kitchen. He didn’t reappear with food.

  ‘Benjie! Can I get a bowl before you nap?’

  I couldn’t see or hear him, and I shouldn’t go around the counter when I wasn’t on shift. Did being in the exploration team mean I didn’t get fed now? It wasn’t my fault he was alone on a busy shift. The roster should have been adjusted.

  ‘Benjie? Please, I’m starved.’

  No reply, and, as hungry as I was, there was no point arguing with an empty counter. He’d reappear when more tank kids arrived.

  I looked around. Quinn was at the same table as Ksenia, James and Ashoka, and he was waving me over. I grabbed the seat next to him and smiled at the table. This was the first time I’d willingly sat with tank kids in the food hall since I was young enough to binge on ancient cartoons and pretend to drive a spaceship. They hadn’t insulted me yet, which helped balance Benjie’s clear rejection.

  Ksenia eyed the empty space in front of me. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’

  ‘I asked Benjie for a bowl but he marched into the kitchen and didn’t come back
.’

  James swallowed a large spoonful of porridge. ‘I think I might know what that’s about.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I had to go back to C-7 three times this morning because someone scrawled “lying cheat” in bright red ink right outside your door. As soon as I mopped it clear and changed deck, they’d write it again.’

  ‘Space me,’ Quinn said. ‘Who’d do that?’

  I thought through the possibilities. Sabine and some of the committee thought I’d cheated, but writing that I was a cheat outside my door wouldn’t help them. Continuing in the programme was down to their vote, not public opinion. But Ludis… he could have done this. It was relatively easy to hear what was said through the committee doors if your ear was almost on them, and he knew how much others’ words affected me.

  ‘Ludis.’

  Quinn’s eyes widened. ‘Really? You think he’d spread lies like that?’

  ‘He wanted me off the team.’

  ‘But plenty of people were jealous you made the shortlist. If they thought you cheated…’ Ksenia dropped her eyes.

  ‘Then they’d want to hurt the cheating kin kid.’ I’d considered it. I sent Siti a quick message, hoping she’d have some insight into who was behind the words. She’d been following him all night, so she had to have seen something if it was him.

  I hoped it wasn’t down to my marrow. Ludis lying to me was bad enough. Turning the crew further against me could get me far worse than an algae-filled bed. He knew how volatile my situation could get. He should know better.

  I sighed. ‘At least they’re outside my cabin this time.’

  Ksenia nodded. ‘I heard about your room. A counsellor in health showed me pictures. They were laughing, but it really wasn’t funny. Did you get everything cleaned up okay? I have tricks for getting red out.’

  ‘The room’s fine. I only wore stained clothes to the announcement to prove they didn’t beat me.’

  Ksenia grinned. ‘You’re as stubborn as me.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Why a cheat?’ James asked, tapping his spoon against his bowl. ‘I mean, they’d need confidence to ink it outside your door three times in a day.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. People tend to assume the worst when it comes to kin kids.’

  ‘Point.’

  Ksenia stood. ‘You must be starved. I’ll ask for seconds and give you my bowl.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tactful and helpful. I could grow to like this girl.

  It didn’t take more than two minutes for her to call for food and come back with a steaming fresh bowl and a clean spoon. Tank kid or not, I liked her more already.

  I ate a good five spoonfuls before telling them what we knew of Ludis’s meetings. Another set of brains could help.

  Quinn’s eyebrows rose, and then he chipped in where he knew more. My tasteless porridge was gone long before the tale was done, my stomach marginally happier, and quieter, for being filled, despite the bland taste.

  James leaned back and shook his head. ‘Wow.’

  Ksenia looked dazed. ‘I can’t believe he’d change so quickly. Lying to you like that is awful, and if he is behind these cheating accusations too…’ She shook her head. ‘Some friend.’

  ‘Can we do anything?’ James asked. ‘You three must be beyond tired with training and following him.’

  ‘I’m in too,’ Ksenia said.

  I wasn’t sure what to tell them. ‘There’s not much we can do. He plans his meetings for training hours, which makes Siti the most stretched of us all.’

  ‘Did you ask her about the graffiti?’ Quinn asked.

  ‘Siti hasn’t replied yet, but it has to be them.’

  Ksenia shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about this cheating business. I’ve seen how much work you put in, and I’ll be telling the real story to everyone on my deck.’

  ‘Me too,’ James said. ‘I don’t need anyone else inking C-7 because they’re convinced you’ve done something wrong. Sabine would only send me to mop it up.’

  I laughed, the sound a balm to my heart, and my aches and pains. Whatever it might mean for them personally, these two weren’t backing down. Mum and Ludis were right. Some tank kids were okay.

  Chapter 13

  For three days Sabine drove us to our knees. We’d endured everything from stamina runs multiple times a day, to nights with barely two hours’ sleep in a row, and we were all exhausted. Even Yara was tired of the non-stop action. We spoke in hushed tones about a week of uninterrupted sleep, but we didn’t complain, officially or otherwise. Sabine had ears everywhere. Instead, we endured it, and in a strange way, it bonded us with red-eyed resentment.

  I headed back to my room after our latest menial adventure in scrubbing. Four or five people rushed downstairs as I approached my floor, but I only caught their backs. I squinted at the motley of scrawls left by my door, but it took a moment to spot the wet ink of their latest artwork – ‘worthless slut’. I stepped over the new insult. We’d given up mopping the deck after the twentieth tag. Thankfully, my cabin was still clear of intruders, and their graffiti. That was a blessing.

  Still, I’d been shoved, spat at, and yelled at by a large portion of the crew, to the point I’d asked Siti or Quinn to collect my food rather than risk going to the food hall myself. If I had gone to Sabine over something so ‘minor’, I’d have been laughed at for being weak, and going to Rima was asking for more trouble.

  I leant against the inside of my door and closed my eyes.

  The crew’s verbal backlash had turned me into a cartoon villain. It made me regret ever telling Ludis to watch his video, and space me, but it made me consider quitting. We were all strong candidates. From here it was all about tactics… but it rankled. I couldn’t go back to being overlooked and overskilled, not after all the work I’d put in. I deserved to be in the final team, and I was going to fight for it, whatever that meant.

  My door dinged, a light flashing to tell me someone was waiting, but the deck was empty. I’d had a number of these ring-and-run calls over the last few days. I looked around the wall and floor for new vandalism. Nothing, but when I headed back inside, something rustled beneath my foot. A note. It must have blown inside when the doors had opened.

  I picked it up: ‘Meet me in your parents’ cabin after second shift. Aina.’

  Using paper was extravagant. I double-checked my comm. We were approaching third shift, and Aina’s last message had been sent when I went looking for Ludis in navigation, which meant she’d used paper rather than comming me. Strange. Still, only one way to find out what she wanted.

  I crossed the hall and called on my parents.

  Mum glanced over my shoulder and ushered me in. Aina was on the sofa, twisted around to watch the door. Her lips were a thin, grim line. Dad hovered beside her, showered and in his off-duty clothes.

  ‘What’s going on? Aina, why didn’t you comm me? Why didn’t any of you comm me?’

  Mum narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ve barely spoken to your father or me since you learned I helped your application along. We thought it would be better coming from Aina.’

  True. I’d forgiven them but hadn’t been ready to make nice. ‘Aina has my comm ID.’

  ‘I do, but I couldn’t risk using it.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Is someone threatening you?’ Had Ludis’s need to keep her isolated and protected escalated?

  Aina bit her lip. ‘It’s Ludis. He visits at all hours, questions me about who I’ve spent time with. The things he said this morning make me think he has access to my comm.’

  So, he was pressuring her. ‘That’s why you chose a paper note?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What do you suspect?’ He spent a large portion of his time with her, so she should have more insight into his motives than we got following him around.

  ‘He’s been talking with people, a lot of people. I think they’re planning something.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Raj has been asking odd questions. It’s like he’s
feeling out opinion on nanites, especially their use on the mission.’

  ‘They were approved.’

  ‘He didn’t argue that, but he suggested approval might be revoked. He’s always been an oddball, so I thought it was nonsense until Aina told us this is part of a bigger movement.’

  I couldn’t protect him, not if his group were drawing the wider crew into their madness. ‘The committee won’t change their minds. Ludis already tried speaking to them with his new friends and failed. He can’t hope trying again would change things.’

  Aina sighed. ‘That’s why I’m worried. He said something about an “uncontaminated” team, but I don’t know all the details.’

  ‘He’d never get a new team past the committee. We’ve spent over a month in intensive training. They wouldn’t be up to standard.’

  ‘Ordinarily I wouldn’t be worried,’ Mum said, ‘but they have support, especially on upper decks. Maintenance, bar Raj, knows nanites’ worth, but other sectors only know the horror stories. They don’t want to risk the planet now that we’re finally here. Together, they could pressure the committee into folding.’

  ‘Risk the planet? So Ludis is convincing others nanites will spread?’

  Mum nodded. ‘They’re terrified what happened on Earth will happen here.’

  ‘After centuries without problem? They should be far more scared of what nanites protect us from. It’s paranoid and reckless to go without them out of fear.’

  ‘Telling them that won’t get you far,’ Dad said, eyebrow quirked.

  No, not if they believed all nanites were the same. ‘What do you suggest?’

  Dad’s forehead furrowed like it did with a complex calculation, but this wasn’t as simple as a repair or resource problem, and if weeks of surveillance with Siti and Quinn couldn’t solve this or stop its development, we couldn’t tackle this alone. Rima needed to know. Space me, even Sabine needed to know. She’d suck the life out of this quicker than a fire in an opened airlock.

  ‘Who have you told?’ I asked.

  Aina looked to the door. ‘I slipped away when he was on a nav shift to tell your parents, and now you. That’s it.’