The Approach (Courage Colony Book 1)

by Holly Ice

  ‘I’m sorry. I was called to a meeting. I realised you were missing a few hours ago.’

  Siti pulled out the hug and gave me a wonky smile. ‘Not bad time, then, considering.’ She looked at me and then the patrol. The smile slid from her face and she stood on her own, fists clenched as if she’d find the assailants herself. ‘What happened? Did they attack someone else?’

  Quinn cleared his throat and patted her arm. ‘I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll get you healed up and find you a bed.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘We should get you to health first,’ I said. She needed water and food, maybe even oxygen, and fresh nanites. With her mottled skin, it was a miracle she could stand. She could have internal bleeding. She needed to be checked out before we shocked her with anything else.

  ‘No, I’m not going anywhere until I know everything they did, and why.’

  Why. That was the question I’d asked for weeks after I’d been trapped inside a similar hole. I knew every form of that question, inside and out. Ludis should have stopped something like this from ever happening. He knew what I had gone through, how many nightmares I endured, yet I was betting his reaction to this would be the same as it was for James. An unfortunate accident.

  I gritted my teeth. ‘Ludis was detained last night, after James was attacked.’

  ‘James was attacked too? Did Ludis plan this?’

  ‘I don’t know. You didn’t see him?’

  ‘No, just the three. Were they after revenge?’

  ‘I don’t know. When were you attacked?’

  ‘Maybe an hour after you messaged me.’

  Of course, I’d guessed I was responsible, but that brought it home. I should have called off the meeting when Sabine had commed me. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Siti said. She looked to the stairs. ‘I wish I could help more. If you have patrols on deck, the ship needs me.’

  ‘Not in your state, it doesn’t.’ My smile faltered. How much had she healed before the nanites stopped? ‘You must be in pain.’

  ‘I can bear it.’

  She was so strong-willed. She had to be moving more on will than energy. Her lips were cracked and she could have far worse than bruises – like badly set bones. Her nose did look the slightest bit wonky. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to break it to reset it. ‘I’m taking you to health. Dad, get the elevator?’ This definitely counted as a required use.

  ‘I’ll go,’ she said, ‘but I want to know everything.’

  As long as she sat through treatment and downed another glass of nanites, or three, I wouldn’t leave out a thing.

  * * *

  My second carefully crafted speech aired to the ship in the evening. We watched from my parents’ cabin. I’d spoken from a chair placed between James’s and Siti’s beds in health, their beaten faces on show. Siti insisted on it and added her support with a croaky voice, explaining how I’d found and saved her and how we’d learned her abductors had acted in retaliation for Ludis’s arrest. Meri interrupted briefly to state that two were already detained following James’s attack and that the third and final assailant had been put in lockers an hour before the speech.

  Siti had needed her story to be told and had wanted to help my campaign, but I hoped the stunt didn’t suggest I wanted to use their pain for votes. More than that, I hoped their injuries did enough to keep anyone else from supporting Ludis’s group or attacking people. Around those worries, I’d tried to be positive, but I wasn’t sure my tone came out right. I sat too stiff, my phrasing too stilted. I wasn’t sure I’d support myself from how I came across. Watching was cringeworthy.

  Still, as the speech finished, Mum hugged the life from me and Dad ruffled my hair. Quinn pulled me into a hug soon after and whispered how proud he was. I felt empty and left for the food hall while they congratulated each other for various phrases.

  On the way, a woman from justice stopped me. ‘Hold on, Errai?’

  I’d never shared a word with her before. Could she really be speaking to me? ‘Yes?’ I was on the balls of my feet, ready to move.

  ‘I liked your speech.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I tried to remember her name. ‘Leah, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘I didn’t expect much support.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘The crew gives kin kids stick, but I watched your progress in training and the application tests. I’m impressed. You’ve made something of yourself.’

  I should have been smiling, thanking her profusely, asking if she’d vote for me and ask others to, but I felt hollow. Her words were what I’d been waiting for but, what did it mean, really? Someone I barely knew thought better of me. What good was that? What difference did it make when over half my friends were in health or lockers?

  Leah patted my arm. ‘I have to go. Patrol need to brief me on the nanite group. Best of luck.’

  I nodded and headed on to the food hall. When I got there, heads turned. Some soon resumed their conversations. Others spoke about the latest attacks, some even wishing I had been the victim rather than their preferred candidates. Their sharpened tongues were as pointed as ever, but for once, it didn’t cut through.

  ‘Here, I’ll get your food,’ Quinn said, the rest of our vote-watching party trailing in behind him. He pulled out a chair for me by Dad and went to the counter. Just as well, since Benjie was on shift.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Dad asked, glaring at people on neighbouring tables.

  ‘You don’t need to give them all the evil eye.’

  ‘They didn’t give you a chance.’

  ‘They never have.’

  Mum rested her hands in her lap and met my eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I always thought if you put yourself out there, you’d get more support. It worked for our generation, but this one is so angry and insular.’

  ‘Your generation had more than two kin kids. I’m like a walking throwback, one they’d love to stamp out. They probably think accepting me would be like asking for more kin kids.’

  Quinn set a plate down in front of me and sat on my other side. ‘Sounds like the same mentality as Ludis and his group.’

  ‘I hope that hasn’t spread as much as the hate for me.’

  ‘The group isn’t gaining traction below decks,’ Dad said, glancing at Mum.

  ‘Sorry, researchers are still… sympathetic. Kuba is demanding they work harder to find group members and the missing chemical, but they’re slow enough I suspect more than the two who hurt Siti are involved.’

  A vertical split, then. The lower levels used nanites and were used to their effects. Health mostly backed them too, for obvious reasons. Civil service, research and development, even navigation, were sure to have members who were opposed. People feared what they didn’t know.

  I looked at the nearest screen, the same one to first show the recruitment poster. My speech was on again, the repeat wrapping up, but the last few sentences were cut short, interrupted by two muscular men, their faces obscured. Someone had gone around the committee to air Ludis’s agenda. Another sign he had widespread support.

  They made everything sound so human, like they’d only acted because the committee hadn’t listened, like the two – three – attacks were almost justified, since the victims were infected. The worst part was, I heard muffles of agreement around the room. Meri was right. If this continued, I wasn’t sure how things would end.

  Quinn rubbed my back. ‘Ignore it. The committee will shut them down.’

  The screen flickered to black half a minute later, halfway through their plea for the crew to get behind a movement which gave individuals more say in rules and process. They had all these ideas, many of them involving votes on major changes. They advocated for a ruling system which listened to its citizens and had less inner grappling for power. In many ways, I could get behind that. Many of us could. But the nanites… I rested my face in my hands. I should have done m
ore to get through to Ludis. I’d known time and space weren’t working, but I’d stupidly hoped the nanite obsession would fizzle out. More fool me.

  * * *

  Unopened insults stacked up on my comm. I counted thirty names, just today. With so many openly calling me unsuitable at best, I doubted I’d win the popular vote. I tried to close my eyes to the vile comments as I marked them as read, but the blinking light and sick curiosity goaded me into reading every single message. Their slurs would foul my mind like slurry long after the vote: ungrateful liar, kin kid scum, lazy and unskilled failure. They went on. Most used emotive language, the kind that clung like a poisonous shadow. I knew it well, but I still felt an aching numbness underneath the prods. It kept the pain of rejection at bay, and I held on to it.

  A knock startled me from the comm. My jaw dropped when I saw who was behind the door. Ludis. He hadn’t come to see me since before the video, and he should be in lock-up. He seemed to be alone. I peered around him and waved to the patrol.

  ‘Is he supposed to be here?’ I asked.

  ‘Justice released him after questioning. Leah couldn’t hold him since he didn’t attack anyone.’

  ‘I see. He’s alone?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ludis said. ‘I came straight from the lockers.’

  ‘Why? I don’t want you here.’ I made to close the door in his face, but he stopped it.

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry. Please, let me explain a few things.’

  I looked him over, but his clothing was tight enough there was no way he could hide a weapon, so I stepped back and swept a hand to invite him in.

  He went straight to the sofa as if nothing had changed between us. His hands rested in his lap, twisted together. I opted to stand, facing him from the hallway, with the door to my back as an easy escape.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I wanted to apologise. What happened to Siti and James was senseless and won’t happen again.’

  ‘Didn’t you pick James for this?’

  He licked his lips and crossed a leg. ‘Not that, no.’

  But he’d singled him out for something. ‘Out. Now.’

  ‘Wait, please. I think we can help each other.’

  ‘Why would I work with you? What your group did… how could you allow that to happen to someone?’

  ‘I didn’t. It was never the plan to hurt anyone. They were angry and it got out of hand.’

  ‘Clearly, but you can’t absolve yourself just because you weren’t personally involved.’ And they hadn’t gotten ‘out of hand’ just once. It felt more like a strategy to scare the committee into submission.

  ‘I know.’

  He hadn’t budged an inch. Short of getting patrol in here, I had no way of removing him. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I know your vote isn’t going well. We might have the numbers to get the result you want, if you support us.’

  ‘Support you, after all you’ve done? Why would I do that?’

  He leaned forward, his eyes begging me to listen. ‘Because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the best way forward. You admitted the crew should have had more say in this.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean I’d support people who nearly murdered my friends.’

  ‘I don’t want violence, Errai. Just a fair vote.’

  ‘That’s not my experience.’

  Ludis huffed. ‘You can’t lay all the blame at our door. The committee laughed our concerns out like a comedy show. How did they expect us to react? We weren’t going to drop it. This is too important. We needed to keep up the pressure, show we aren’t going away.’

  ‘By hurting people.’

  ‘I’m sorry that happened. It was never my intention, but the committee put us in lockers to shut us up. Are you surprised they reacted?’

  ‘Anyone would be locked up for what they did.’ I couldn’t believe he was trying to defend them. He’d got ideas in his head before, but this time he was refusing to hear any reason but his own. He must know I could never trust him – or was he so far gone he still thought he was protecting people?

  ‘They’re fighting for a fair vote. They went about it in the wrong way, but is what they’re fighting for so bad?’

  This was ridiculous, and I had to put an end to it. He hadn’t come here after his group had nearly murdered my friends to dangle votes in front of my nose. He wanted something. ‘Why bribe me with votes?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it like that. It’s more an exchange of influence. I have the ears of voters, and you have the ears of Rima and the mission team, a way to get our concerns heard.’

  ‘No.’

  He paled. ‘No? I know yesterday’s speech didn’t have as much impact as you might like, but I know we can bring you over the line.’

  ‘No.’ He thought I could be bought. I’d rather be trapped on this ship for another year than support his group after what they’d done. I couldn’t put my name behind anything he suggested, not anymore. And sucking up to the committee on his behalf? That would never happen.

  ‘You’ll lose the vote. Please, Errai. This is a way out of this mess, for both of us.’

  ‘Then I lose the vote.’ I looked to the door. ‘You can go now.’

  He clenched his jaw and his cheeks heated, but he stiffly stood and left. The door snapped shut behind him.

  The way he’d sat, the way he’d reacted to my refusal, this was about more than me. He had to be desperate. He knew the committee barely listened to me and that the crew was worse. I was a poor pawn, so what was his endgame? Was he really trying to find a better way forward?

  I scrolled past the dozens of insults on my comm and wrote a message to the committee, warning them about my surprise meeting, and Ludis’s unstable state. They promised they’d watch him, but I still felt uneasy. He was hyper-focused on this, but his group were the real danger.

  * * *

  I stayed in my parents’ cabin, once again watching the screens. Quinn and a bruised but mostly repaired Siti watched with us. It was a crowd for the cramped living room, but everyone was in good spirits, giggling at expressions I’d made during my last speech and nudging me whenever someone spoke up for me during interviews or post voting, quoting their words back at me to coax a smile. In the same vein, they talked over anyone who criticised me.

  I brushed their reactions off and thought ahead, to serving in the food hall after the team had left, to which player films I might be able to watch with Siti… or compromise on. More than that, I wondered how zero gravity would work. We’d have months of it while we orbited Ristar. I’d read about how the toilets would be adapted. The suction part sounded grim. That had been one of the many things I could have mostly avoided on the mission trip.

  My eyes glazed as the screens switched to live broadcasts of the voting process – security patrols taking small groups of voters to the polling station on their deck and then back to their cabins. Like Meri had planned, only five or six went at a time, which made for boring, repetitive footage. So much so, I was glad when my comm vibrated. I held it above my head to gain the room’s attention. This time, it wasn’t an insult.

  ‘Time to go.’

  We left for the food hall together. The committee were already there, as were some mission candidates. They’d piled the chairs and tables against the kitchen counter, leaving the floor free for the show.

  Kuba stood in front of the long line of the committee, holding a large screen. Behind them were a mixed section of the crew and vote security. I looked over the faces and was surprised to see many smiles among the frowns.

  ‘Errai Avila, present to hear the results of the vote on her participation in the Ristar exploratory mission.’ Kuba nodded at me and pressed buttons on his screen. His eyebrows rose near to his hairline at what he saw.

  For a moment, a spark of hope lit in my chest. He hated me, so if he was surprised…

  ‘The votes are in. Are you ready for the result?’ He glanced at me, then the camera.

  I bit har
d on my tongue but nodded.

  He turned the screen, and the percentages were displayed in large font black and white, easy to read for everyone in front of their cabin screens and comms.

  Quinn pulled me into a sideways hug, but I couldn’t relax into it. I was fixated on the numbers and felt the cameras and the eyes of the crew like a crushing weight. I’d done so much better than I’d expected. Forty-one percent of the crew had voted for me. I’d thought I might gain thirty percent, at a push.

  It was amazing, but it wasn’t enough. Those angry, loud voices had gotten their way. Ludis and his group could well have tipped the balance. My numbness flared to anger as I realised what the result meant. The people who’d invaded my privacy and coated my room in red, threatened me for daring to leave the kitchen, had won. I had no way to fight back within our law. I’d not be taking part in the mission. As much as I’d braced myself for it, I hated it.

  Quinn dipped to whisper in my ear. ‘Are you okay? Your cheeks are bright red.’

  I felt heated too. I faced the camera and swallowed the blood on my tongue. ‘I’d like to thank the forty-one percent of you that voted for me, that saw what I could do.’ I licked my lips and stared into the depths of the camera. ‘I know my academic record has not always been so strong and I can’t please everyone, but I hope those who voted against me voted on facts rather than kin kid hate.’ My throat tightened, so I turned on my heel and left before tears claimed my anger.

  Quinn caught up with me outside the food hall doors and beyond the cameras, as did Siti, my parents, and Ksenia. They kept trying to draw my attention or comfort me, talking about how I’d be safer up here, or how I was slowly changing the minds of the crew, how I’d made a difference. It was a lie. I’d done nothing but confirm the crew wanted no kin kids in their society. I didn’t want their comfort or their support.

  ‘Do you want us here?’ Quinn asked.

  I shrugged, so close to tears I daren’t speak.

  ‘Don’t discount the progress you’ve made, Errai. Forty percent is a great result!’ Ksenia tried to be upbeat, but it fell flat.

  I leant against the wall and closed my eyes, pulled in deep breaths.