by S.A. Bodeen
“He has to be here.” She swallowed.
Her mother hadn’t spoken about Jack as someone she had known for a day and then forgotten. She spoke about him like he meant something to her. Like he meant a lot to her.
“Jack has to be my father.” But why wasn’t he in any of the images?
Kiva scrolled back through more slowly. She hadn’t paid much attention to the additional photos of the core group of her mother and Seth’s parents and Fai, but as she scrutinized more carefully on the second pass, one had an additional person, shown only in profile. A tall, handsome, dark-skinned man.
“And who are you?”
She found the new name below.
L. T. Kavajecz.
Without turning on the voice command, she keyed in the name. Nothing came up.
“And never mind.”
“Good morning.” Seth seemed upbeat as he sat down in the chair.
“Is it?”
“Good?” He tapped the console in front of him.
“Morning.”
He glanced at her. “Yeah. Early though. Five or so.”
“I only asked because no sun makes it hard to tell.”
“That’s my complaint about the shuttle. Not enough windows.” He pulled up what looked like a map of the stars with a flashing green dot and a flashing blue one.
Kiva watched it for a moment. “What’s that?”
He pointed at the green. “That’s us. And the blue is Vesuvius.”
“One of the other ships?”
“Yes. That’s where we’re headed.”
Kiva watched the dots for a moment. “How far away is it?”
“About three days.”
“Do they know we’re coming?”
Seth’s hand froze, poised over the monitor. “Not exactly.”
She sat back in her chair. “Wait. What’s going to happen when we get there?”
“They’re going to give us the part we need.” Seth touched the screen. “Hopefully.”
“What if they don’t?”
He didn’t answer.
“Well?” Kiva prodded. “Have you thought of that?”
“Yes!” Seth shot a glance her way, then focused on the screen again. “Of course we did.”
We. Kiva scowled. How nice that he was part of the united front of adults, part of their leadership team. “Why didn’t they just bring me out of torpor like they did with you? Why not just tell me everything that’s going on?”
“There wasn’t time. When the damage happened, they developed a plan to follow the authenticity of the virtual reality program and…”
“And what?” asked Kiva.
Seth stared at the screen.
“What?”
He set both hands on the tabletop. “My dad thought that if they did that, woke you up like they did me, that your mom would back out. She wouldn’t let you go with me. He knew your mom was already worried that…”
Elbows on knees, Kiva leaned in. “Worried that what?”
“You wouldn’t come back.”
She frowned. “And your dad wasn’t worried for you?”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
“He’s the leader.” Kiva was confused. “Doesn’t he make the final decisions?”
Seth swiveled the chair to face her. “Others on the Krakatoa are getting frustrated. Restless. It’s not good. Part of the council is threatening an insurrection.”
“You mean like a mutiny?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh.” Kiva rested her chin on her hands.
Seth chewed on the inside of his cheek a moment. “When the damage to the ship happened, some of them forced my dad’s hand. And a decision had to be made fast. The numbers are split, half are Manifesters, half aren’t.”
“What’s a Manifester?”
“They believe that only the people originally intended to be on the ship, and their descendants, should be allowed to live on the space station.”
Kiva frowned. “Do you believe that?”
“No, no way. Anyone who made it on one of those ships was meant to be here. I mean, that’s fate, right? Or destiny? And I believe in destiny.”
“And your dad? What does the general think?”
“He thinks the Manifesters are lunatics. We will need everyone to start this civilization once Home Base is ready.”
Kiva asked, “So what happened?”
“None of them wanted to leave the Krakatoa and give the opposition an edge,” said Seth. “So I volunteered to go.”
Kiva raised her eyes to meet his. “But your dad didn’t want you to.”
He shook his head. “He definitely didn’t want me to go alone. Not after what happened with your dad.”
Kiva sat up. “So why did I get picked?”
“Your mom has been on my dad’s side throughout the trouble. She agreed with him that I shouldn’t go alone. But the ones mounting the insurrection—”
“Refused to go.”
He nodded. “They told her to send her own daughter, which left my dad with no choice.”
Kiva blew out a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. She remembered the overheard conversation between her mom and Fai that night. Fai had talked about dissenters. They must have been arguing about this.
He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I’m just worried about what’s happened since we left.” He stared down at the blinking lights on the screen but seemed to not really see them.
“You think they went through with the mutiny?”
“No way of knowing.” He raised his hands over his head and stretched. “I can’t dwell on that. We have a job to do. The sooner we get what we need, the sooner we can get back there.”
Three days to their destination. Probably another three or four back. At least a week on the Tomb.
She wasn’t about to sit there the whole time, watching vid-docs of the world that was. “I want to learn how to fly this thing.”
“You don’t exactly fly it.” Seth didn’t look at her. “Plus, I already know how.”
Kiva frowned. “Well, what if something happens to you?”
“Like what?”
She thought a moment. “You could get sick.”
“I feel fine.”
Kiva mumbled, “Knife in the back, then.”
The corner of his mouth turned up, just a little.
She was kidding. Mostly. “Do you really want me to sit here for the next week with nothing to do?”
“Suit yourself.” Seth pointed at the screen in front of her. “Schematics of the ships and shuttles are on there.”
She swiped until the file she sought popped up. There was no sense in messing around with the stupid Tomb, Seth would never let her take control. She rested her elbows on the tabletop and studied the schematics of the Krakatoa and her three sisters.
Fai had always taught her to begin at the small things. Once you understood those, you could move on, and the bigger things would make sense if you had the building blocks in place already.
Kiva started with what she considered the beginning: How did they keep the lights on?
Each ship had a primary power system: a radioisotope thermoelectric generator. The RTG was made of three parts: thermal receptacle on the hull, the heat conversion unit, and the radioactive core. An RTG was capable of supplying 100 percent of the power needs, but had a short-term backup for worst-case scenarios. She studied the RTG for a little while, then asked Seth, “What needs to get fixed on the Krakatoa?”
Seth didn’t look away from his own screen. “The heat conversion unit on the RTG.”
“That’s what converts the heat generated from the decay of the plutonium into electricity.”
He glanced at her. “Right.”
“There’s no backup?”
He sat up. “They switched to backup power, but that’s meant to be temporary. The HCU needs to be replaced.”
“And the Vesuvius will have an extra one?”
Seth stared at his screen. �
��We don’t know. The ships were supposed to have spares of everything, even the isotopes, but the Krakatoa had to launch before preparations were complete.” He locked eyes with her. “We’re banking on the Vesuvius having spare parts.”
“And what if they don’t want to share?”
Seth shook his head slightly, then went back to what he was doing.
Kiva returned to the schematics.
Each system—life support, heating, water, etc.—was controlled from the main bridge of the airship, on one main panel. One person, sitting in one position, had the capability at their fingertips to control the entire ship. “Trask was a genius.”
Seth looked up. “Is a genius.” He shrugged. “I think he’s still out there on the Tambora.”
Kiva kept reading.
Even small systems—referred to as subordinate in the schematics, such as the one that controlled the central vacuums in individual cabins—could be turned off and on from that single panel.
One sentence appeared at the bottom of every page, repeated over and over: WARNING: ONCE A SUBORDINATE SYSTEM IS POWERED DOWN, THERE IS A MANDATORY TEN-MINUTE DELAY BEFORE RESTART CAN OCCUR.
Kiva didn’t know the purpose of the delay. Maybe to prevent a surge in power or something. Besides, all the subordinate systems weren’t necessary to sustain life, so a delay probably didn’t matter that much. She memorized the sequence to turn any of the systems off, then the sequence to restart.
Chances were she’d never need it, but having some kind of knowledge of her new world made her feel better.
Something cold touched her arm.
She jumped.
“Sorry.” Seth held out a blue cup. “Breakfast?”
Kiva’s hand immediately went to her stomach. “What is it?”
“Liquid nutrition. Very easy on the stomach.”
She peered inside at the orange contents.
He said, “Mango flavored.”
“Mango?”
“It’s a fruit.” He sipped his.
Kiva took a cautious sip. Fruity and smooth and refreshing. She took a bigger drink, mindful to not go too fast. “I like it.”
“Good.” Seth sounded sincere.
She wondered why he was being so nice. Especially after her cruel words. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. About your mom.”
Seth shrugged. “You were right.”
“It wasn’t about being right. I shouldn’t have said it.”
He sat down and swiveled his chair toward her. “You were upset about your dad. I get it.”
“Still. I’m sorry.”
Seth pointed at her console. “How’s that going? Ready to fly this thing yet?”
She swiped the screen blank before he could get a closer look. “Not quite.” She took another drink. “Is the Tomb like the Krakatoa? I mean, in terms of how the systems work?”
Seth nodded. “Just on a smaller scale.”
Kiva glanced around the bridge. “The main control panel is—”
Seth pointed at the tabletop in front of him. “Right here.” He tilted his head at hers. “It could be set for that one. Or both. But this one can override that one. The shuttles are different from the big ships that way. I think this was meant to be used for training, eventually, and this is the instructor’s seat.”
Kiva was glad to hear that everything she learned about the Krakatoa would essentially apply to the operation of the Tomb. Because she did like the idea she could operate it if needed.
The shuttle jolted.
Kiva nearly dropped her cup. “What was that?”
“No idea.” Seth swiped the screen. “I’ll check systems.” He bent low over the tabletop.
Kiva tried to see if he looked worried or not, then tapped her own screen until she got the map from earlier. She located them, the green flashing dot. But this time, a red dot was nearly next to it. “I thought the Vesuvius was three days away.”
“It is.” Seth kept working away at his console.
“Then why is this dot right next to us?”
“What?” Seth stood up and leaned over her, his midsection pressed against her shoulder. “That can’t be right.” He turned and headed for the door at a run.
Kiva set down her cup and followed. “What’s going on?” Suddenly, the shuttle jolted to a stop so hard that Kiva fell forward and slammed her knees into the floor. She broke her fall, twisting one wrist. “Ow.” She sat up and rubbed it, then got to her feet and continued running down the corridor. “Seth!” She rounded the corner.
Motionless, he stared out the glass wall.
She asked, “Are we stopped?”
Seth didn’t answer.
The shuttle began moving again.
Kiva breathed out in relief. “Well, that’s good.”
But Seth muttered, “No. It’s not.”
She moved alongside him.
The stars were blocked by a massive, looming shape that set her pulse racing.
“We’re moving again because we’re in a tractor beam.” He pointed outside. “And that? Is not Vesuvius.”
10
Seth raced back to the bridge, Kiva at his heels. Breathless, she sat down in her chair.
He rapidly swiped and typed, his eyes half closed, jaw tight as he scanned whatever was on the screen. Then, suddenly, he sat back and set a hand over his eyes.
Kiva whispered, “Do you know what it is?”
He dropped his hand. “Pinatubo. One of the four ships.”
“That’s good, right?” Kiva sat up. “Maybe they have an extra HCU.”
Seth did not seem to share her enthusiasm.
She asked him, “Why didn’t we come to Pinatubo if it was closer?”
“Because we didn’t know. The Krakatoa hasn’t communicated with them for a very long time.” Seth squeezed his bottom lip between two fingers.
Kiva’s heart began to race. “Is there a chance my dad could be on that ship?”
“No way.”
“Why not? Do you even know who is on that ship?”
“No, but—”
“Then don’t.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You do not get to tell me not to hope.”
“Listen, your dad, if it even was your dad, left the Krakatoa on a shuttle and no one has heard from him since. There’s no proof that he even made it to another ship.”
Kiva glared at him. “Consider my hope dead and buried.”
“Sorry, I just…” Seth stared at the screen. “I’m not saying he’s dead, okay? I honestly don’t think there’s a chance that this is where he ended up.”
“Fine. But what happens when we get there?” Kiva’s heart raced. “Do we go say hello?”
Seth opened a drawer to his left and pulled out a knife. He secured it in the waistband of his pants and pulled his shirt down. “I go. You stay and hide.”
“No chance.” Kiva stood up.
“I don’t know what I’m walking into.” Seth got to his feet, towering over her as they stood chest to chest. “And I don’t feel like having to save you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t need you to—” The shuttle jolted to a stop and she fell into him.
He caught her firmly. “I need you to go hide.” He set his mouth at her ear, his breath warm on her skin. “Please, Keeves.”
She froze.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed being called that.
Face hot, she stepped back, unable to meet his gaze. “Fine. I’ll hide.”
“I’ll be back.” He set a hand briefly on her arm, then disappeared out the door.
Kiva wanted to follow him, go meet whoever might be out there. Maybe her dad, because she did still have hope he was alive, somewhere. But instead she kept her word and ran to her cabin. She hit the privacy switch to the door, then opened the cabinet. She climbed in the bottom and hugged her knees.
There, in the dark, her breaths were loud and shallow and fast. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her ears.
Seth seemed truly concerned abou
t what he would find.
Who was on the Pinatubo?
Were they friendly?
What if they weren’t?
Did they take Seth prisoner?
Would she be next?
As time crept along, the thoughts kept coming, fast and furious.
Why didn’t she go with him?
Because Seth said he didn’t want to have to save her.
And then he’d invoked his nickname for her, the one she thought she would never hear again. The sound of it, coming from him, had melted the ice still inside her.
She’d given in, believed that she needed him to protect her.
But how could he, if he didn’t know what possible dangers might lay in store for them? She was not about to be a willing victim.
Kiva shoved open the door and crawled out. She ran to the bridge and yanked out the drawer where Seth had gotten the knife.
Another lay on top.
As she secured it in her own waistband the same way he had done, other contents of the drawer caught her eye. She lifted out a jumble of thick thread, white tangled with red.
BANG!
Kiva dropped the thread and shoved the drawer in, then raced back to her cabin. She settled herself in the cabinet, a tiny crack of light seeping through.
WHOOSH.
Kiva slapped a hand over her mouth.
How could she have forgotten to lock the door?
She managed to reach around to her back and get the knife.
Maybe they wouldn’t look very hard.
pleasegoawaypleasegoawaypleasegoaway
Maybe, if they already had Seth, they would think he had been alone on the shuttle.
pleasegoawaypleasegoawaypleasegoaway
Her knuckles turned white around the knife.
She held her breath.
The cabinet flew open. A pair of unfamiliar black boots filled her view.
She screamed and jabbed the knife, hair falling into her eyes so she couldn’t see.
Her attacker grunted and squeezed her wrist so hard it hurt.
She cried out and dropped the knife.
But then she threw a punch that connected with hard muscle.
“Hey!” Seth grabbed her arm. “It’s me, it’s me.”
She swept hair out of her face.
His forehead wrinkled. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! I didn’t know what was happening and then I heard the door and then…” She looked up at him. “I could have stabbed you.”