by S.A. Bodeen
Kiva’s legs were still weak and unsteady, and she had to rise before she lost her balance.
But she was too abrupt.
Her vision swam for a moment before clearing.
Her stomach growled.
What a strange dream, that she could be weak from hunger.
Her throat was so dry.
The clamor ceased, the abrupt silence nearly as concussive.
Kiva coughed and quickly covered her mouth.
The person stilled, arms slowly lowered. Shoulders slumped a tad, then one hand gestured to the silver faucet on the right. “Water’s in there.”
The voice was familiar, but not. So close to someone she knew, but off in some way. Like they were spoken through a tub of water.
The person in the chair swiveled around to face her.
Kiva’s legs gave out and she dropped to her knees.
This person … was an impossibility.
Except that in a dream, anything was possible.
Because, to Kiva, there could be no other explanation for how she found herself staring into the eyes of the dead prince of Alexandria.
5
Kiva scrabbled backward until she hit the rear wall and could go no farther. Her hands went up in front of her, palms out, a barrier between her and whatever he was. “Stay away from me!”
Seth—or his ghost?—got up and crossed the space toward her.
She stared.
Death had changed him as it had her.
His dark eyes were bare of kohl. The black clothes covered his chest and arms and legs, as if to camouflage.
No. Not him. Not possible.
“You’re dead.” Kiva lowered her hands slightly. “I touched your mummy.”
This Seth held out a hand. “Come on.” His tone softened. “I’m not dead and neither are you.”
She shrunk away from his hand. “Is this the afterlife?”
He squatted in front of her. “No, Kiva, it’s not the afterlife. We’re alive.”
Kiva scrunched her eyes shut. “Then it has to be a dream, only a dream, it’s—”
Seth pinched her arm.
“Ow!” Her eyes popped open and she rubbed the spot. “That hurt.”
“It was supposed to. Now maybe you’ll believe me. We are not dead, we are alive. This is not the afterlife, this is reality. Get over it and move on.” He straightened back up and, again, offered his hand.
Kiva regarded it for a moment, then took hold.
Seth’s hand felt solid and strong and as real as the pinch on her arm.
He yanked her to standing and then let go all in one motion, as if not being able to stand the contact with her for more than a second.
Kiva gasped. That definitely felt real.
He returned to his chair and gestured to his right. “Over there, water. Maybe you can drink enough to flush the cobwebs from your brain.” He sighed impatiently.
Part of her wanted to run to him, to hug him, to tell him she was so glad that he wasn’t dead.
But that Seth, the one in the chair? He wasn’t the one she missed.
Maybe dreams, maybe death, were not supposed to be happy. But she was the sacrifice—why was she being punished?
Kiva wondered why he seemed to know so much about this dream. And why was he annoyed that she knew nothing?
She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to. “What is this place?”
Without looking at her, he held out his arms. “Welcome to the Tomb.”
She didn’t understand. She’d been in the tomb. With his body.
“But … I thought we weren’t dead.”
He swiveled around, then propped one bare foot up on the other chair. “We aren’t. Far from it.”
Afraid her legs might give out again at any moment, she tried to appear steady. “Are we in the palace?”
“No.”
“Then are we under it?”
“No. Gods.” Seth sighed again. “I told them they should have just let me go alone.”
She persisted. “Go where?”
He dropped his foot and gestured at the chair. “You’d better sit for this.”
Kiva complied, relieved to be off her shaky legs.
Seth walked over to the silver nozzle and held a shiny blue cup under it. Water poured out, automatic like the lights, stopping when he moved the cup away.
She couldn’t help staring. “It’s like everything is … is magic.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not magic.” He handed her the cup and plopped down in his chair. “Science.”
“Science?” Kiva took a sip of the cold, refreshing water.
“Technology. You know all the stuff we learned in school about the future? Things they told us would be possible one day?”
Kiva nodded.
“Well, they lied about that.” He gestured around them. “This is our present. Our now. Reality.”
She scratched her head. “So, this is a dream?”
Seth smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead a few times and muttered, “Impossible.” He leaned over the table in front of him and tapped the shiny surface. “If you won’t listen to me, listen to your mom.”
Suddenly, Sabra’s face filled the table.
“Mom?” Kiva bent over and set a hand on her mother’s face.
Instantly, Sabra began to speak. “Kiva, sweetie, I know you must be so confused—”
“Mom!” Kiva dropped her water and laid both palms on the screen. “I’m here. I’m alive.”
Seth took Kiva’s hands and whirled her toward him. “Are you kidding me? I know you’re smarter than this. Can you listen?”
His face was inches from hers, his body so close.
Too close.
She shut her eyes.
Her other senses, dormant for so long, bloomed.
His scent.
She could do nothing other than breathe.
Mint and something else, something spicy. She inhaled deeper.
His hands on hers, so warm.
So concrete.
How did she feel to him? Smell to him?
Was she as real?
Seth spoke very slowly, as if she were a child. “Everything you know, about Alexandria … it’s not real. It never was.”
His words from the day of the quake came back to her.
Your world is as you see it to be. Until it isn’t.
Her eyes opened.
Seth let go of her. “I have a lot to explain and it’s going to be hard to understand.” He leaned back, away from her.
She swallowed, unable to tear her gaze from his.
He tapped the table. “This is a computer. What you see is a video document, a vid-doc of your mom from yesterday. It’s her, she is real, but she’s not actually here.”
Kiva didn’t like being treated like a child. But she wanted to hear what her mom had to say. “I understand,” she lied. “And I’m sorry I spilled my water.”
“No biggie.” He swiped a finger across the screen. “Ready?”
She nodded, even though she doubted she was ready for any of this.
“Take two.” He picked up the cup and started the recording.
Kiva leaned forward to get a closer look. Gone was Sabra’s glossy, dark hair. Layered, light brown hair barely reached her chin, and her blue eyes sparkled in a way the made-up ones never did. She wore the same simple black clothing that they did.
Sabra began, “I can only imagine what you are thinking, Kiva. This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out, but our hands were forced. I know that for your whole life you thought you were in Alexandria, but that was not the case.” She paused a moment. “You have never even stepped foot on Earth.”
Kiva covered her mouth with a hand. What was she talking about? “Then where have I been?”
Seth brought more water and paused the recording. “She’s not going to answer you.”
“I know,” snapped Kiva, wanting to understand and frustrated that she didn’t. Her quivering hand took the cup.
Seth dropped into the other chair and glared at the screen before him.
Kiva chugged most of the water, trying to calm herself so she didn’t break down in front of him.
What in the world was her mother talking about? How could she never have been on Earth?
“Do you need me to start it again?” Seth watched her.
“I can do it.” Kiva gently touched her mother’s frozen face. Nothing happened. “Mom?” She touched another place on the screen and garnered an identical result. She groaned.
Seth reached forward. “Swipe this way to—”
Kiva shoved his hand out of the way.
He frowned at her. “I can turn on the voice command if you want. But Hermione is annoying.”
“Hermione?”
“I named the voice from an old book I read last year.”
“Oh.”
“Plus, it’s way easier until you get the hang of it.”
Get the hang of it?
She didn’t want to be there long enough to get the hang of it.
She wanted to find out what was going on and how to get back home. She swiped her fingers along the tabletop and her mother resumed speaking.
Sabra sighed. “Sweetheart, this is going to seem impossible to you, but please trust me. I was raised on Earth. In the United States, a place called Texas.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Never mind, Seth can show you maps and all that later. The point is, things on Earth went very, very wrong. I was twenty-two, going to college. It was the year 2037.”
Kiva gasped.
The future. Her mother was from the future?
And that meant Seth was telling the truth. “I’m in the future?”
Seth tapped a small icon on the top of the screen. “Stop playback.”
A calm but erudite female voice said, “Stopping playback.”
Sabra’s face froze once more.
“Is it too much?” asked Seth.
Kiva wanted to yell at him, but she didn’t even know the words. Hearing the truth, if in fact that’s what this was, had turned out to be exhausting. “I’m so confused.”
Seth asked, “Well, do you want the quick and dirty from me? You can get all the details from your mom later?”
She had no idea which one of them she trusted less. Or from whom she would rather hear the inevitably disquieting dispatch.
Kiva drank the rest of her water, then went over and refilled the cup under the shiny spigot, so strange and yet almost familiar.
The truth was necessary. No matter how hard it would be for her to hear.
She returned to her chair and faced Seth, decisive. But as her head continued to clear, her mood seemed to darken in response. “So? Go ahead. You seem like you can’t wait to tell me how much I don’t know.”
Seth rubbed his jaw, his confidence appearing ruffled. “I don’t know where to start.”
“What year is it?” asked Kiva.
Seth sat back in his chair. “I don’t think that’s the best place to—”
“Gods, Seth! Tell me what year it is.”
“2053.”
“No. No way.” Kiva set the cup down before she spilled it again. “Not possible.”
Seth shrugged. “You want me to lie?”
“Fine. Say I do believe that it’s 2053.” Kiva threw her arms out on either side. “Then where are we if we’re not on Earth?”
Seth slumped a little in his chair and mumbled something.
She let her arms fall back to her lap. “What?”
He took a deep breath and leaned back, locking his hands behind his head. “There’s not really an easy way to say it, so I’ll just.… Do you remember when our teacher took us out at night to look at the stars?”
“She taught us about the planets and the solar system and—”
“And spoke about the future, how humans would one day build rockets to get them to the moon.”
“I remember,” said Kiva. “But it was fantasy, as much as when she told us about…” She glanced at the computer before her, and gazed around at the rest of the bridge.
Seth watched her a moment. “Yeah. So, the thing is … We’re in space.”
“Right.” Kiva stood and began to pace. “It’s 2053. And I’m in space.” She stopped to stare at him. “Do I look that stupid?”
Seth got up. “Come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Kiva dropped into her chair. “You’re dead. This is my dream. And I’m tired.” She covered her face and groaned into her hands. “And, quite obviously, also losing my mind.”
“No, you’re not. You’re fine.”
She dropped her hands and raised her eyebrows.
“I can prove it.” Seth gestured toward the door.
Kiva crossed her arms and glared up at him. “Why should I believe anything you say? If this is all technology, maybe you’re just pretending to be someone that I … used to know.”
“I’m not pretending.”
Kiva raised her chin. “Prove it.”
Seth sighed. “You have a cat named Sasha that likes to bring you mice, not always alive.”
“That’s not exactly a secret.”
“Okay. How about … you love math?”
Kiva rolled her eyes. “Anyone could know that.”
“True.” Seth thought for a moment. “At your twelfth birthday party I gave you a stupid bracelet I made.”
Kiva’s hand brushed her empty wrist.
“And you kissed me on the cheek.”
Kiva’s eyes narrowed. No one knew that except her. And Seth.
“Kiva, I promise you. I’m not lying. I can prove it to you.”
She didn’t move.
“Don’t you want to see the truth for yourself?”
Kiva stood. “Fine.”
He headed for the door and she followed.
Kiva tried to keep up with Seth’s long strides as they walked down the corridor. He turned a corner and stopped abruptly.
She ran into him and quickly stepped back.
“We’re here.” Seth pointed.
Goose bumps rose on Kiva’s arms. A gasp bubbled up and out.
Before her lay floor to ceiling glass.
Beyond that, infinite blackness, prickled by the lights of millions of stars.
6
Kiva knelt before the window and pressed her forehead to the hard, cool surface. She found herself almost incapable of drawing a breath, never mind speaking.
Seth stood a few feet away, observing.
For several minutes Kiva stared out, barely blinking. Her shallow, ragged breaths fogged an imperfect circle on the glass. Finally, words came. “My mind is telling me not to believe it. But my eyes … We’re … in space.”
“We are.”
Kiva flattened her hands on the glass. The stars were so close that she felt as if she could touch them. She cupped her hands around her eyes and narrowed her field of vision to include only the expanse of the universe. It was as if the floor fell away and she floated there, among the heavens.
Nothing had prepared her for that sight.
Or that feeling.
At last, she leaned back and dropped her hands, still staring out. Near the bottom left of the glass, she noticed a white ball. “What is that?”
“Earth. Home, technically.” He added, “Not that we’ve ever been there.”
“I still can’t believe it.” Kiva tore herself away and blinked at him. “We’ve really been up here, in space, our whole lives?”
He nodded. “On the Krakatoa.”
“The what?”
“A high-tech airship. Only four of her kind.” He noticed the blank look on her face. “They’re actually a hybrid, with characteristics of blimps and advanced spacecraft. In order to have artificial gravity up here, there has to be rotation. The outside ring is designed to do that, but because the ship is so big, the rotation doesn’t have to be that fast. You don’t even notice it.” He dropped to his knees beside her and peered out the gl
ass. After a moment, he tapped on it. “There. See that?”
Amidst the twinkling stars, a light pulsed, too regular to be random. She squinted. “That tiny thing?”
He smiled. “The Krakatoa only looks small because we’ve been traveling away from her for nearly twelve hours.”
Kiva stiffened. “Why are we traveling away? And what exactly are we on?”
His eyes met hers. “We’re on the Tomb.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He shrugged. “My nickname for it, given the circumstances. It’s a shuttle, a smaller ship. The Krakatoa is made for orbiting more than traveling. It doesn’t have the fuel capabilities for propulsion like this does, so it makes more sense to send this one.”
“Does it rotate too?”
Seth shook his head. “The rotation would be way too fast. But it’s small enough to have gravity plates in the walls and ceilings and floors.”
Kiva’s gaze turned back to the tiny light.
Was that really where she had grown up? Where her mother and Fai and all the others were now? Maybe her entire world had turned out to be fake, but the people never were. She needed to see them. Wanted to see them. Live in this reality alongside them. “I want to go back.”
“We will.” Seth seemed relaxed for the first time, as if getting her to understand their reality finally made him calm; at last, a peer with which to share the truth. “But they sent us on a mission. We have to do that first.”
“What kind of mission? And why us?”
“Listen, there’s a lot more I have to tell you.”
Kiva felt his eyes on her.
Seth breathed out. “Maybe we should take small steps.”
“Like showing me a million stars and telling me some tiny, blinking light is where I’ve lived my whole life?” If that was a small step, she didn’t think she’d survive a big one. “Where in space are we?”
“Somewhere between Earth and Mars. You remember the planets?”
Kiva nodded. “I just never expected to be up among them.”
Seth said, “Sorry you had to find out this way.”
Kiva faced him. “How did you find out?”
He stretched out his legs and set his hands on the floor behind him. “When my mom died.” Before Kiva had a chance to ask, he added, “Egypt seemed like our world, because it was. One made in virtual reality. I’ll explain it all to you, or let your mom do it, but the real us, our bodies, have been in torpor chambers since we were little.”