by Lauren James
I’m in shock. I’m not having a heart attack, or a stroke, or dying. I’m just in shock.
I curl up on the floor, staring at the mint-green wall and shuddering, reliving the last few hours over and over. The dense sponginess of J’s stomach when I pushed the knife inside him. The smell of burnt flesh after he was electrocuted. The feeling of him dragging me down the corridor, squeezing my wrists. The utter, heart-stopping fear when I realized that he was on The Eternity with me.
I can’t focus on anything. Half-formed thoughts flicker through my mind, appearing and disappearing before I can process them.
I want to go back into the sick bay, to make sure J is really dead. I want to push his body out of the airlock so that he can never follow me again. I want to tear my brain out of my skull, so I never remember what happened, so I can get rid of this awful, aching feeling.
Finally, the only thing that gets me moving is the realization that I’m cold. My teeth are chattering. Shivering, clammy with sweat, I crawl down the corridor, searching for something. I’m not sure what.
A door on my left slides open when I approach, and I go inside. It’s a bathroom. I pull every towel out of the cupboard, wrapping them around me, layer after layer absorbing slick blood and salty sweat.
What do I do now? What is next?
They’re gone. They’re both gone.
I want my own bunk. I want to be back on my ship, in the rooms I know – not this alien, mint-green thing the size of a planet.
I walk out of the bathroom, moving down another corridor, taking myself further away from the sick bay.
The thud of my heartbeat in my ears when J tried to unlock the supply cupboard door. His breath, hot against my neck when he hissed into my ear. The shock wave of horror when he appeared in the stores, staring at me through the crack between packets.
I walk, following lines of red and blue that light up in the floor.
What do I do?
I find a habitation area and sit on a sofa, still wrapped in a thick swathe of blood-soaked towels.
J’s emails. J’s awful, wonderful emails. I shudder, swallowing against the sour taste at the back of my mouth.
The audio calls. Hearing him breathe, waiting for me to speak. His silhouette, standing in the doorway of the airlock when the ships connected. Standing and waiting for me to arrive and see him there.
I tip over and, without quite realizing it, pass out.
HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:
63
When I wake up, my eyes won’t open. I rub at layers of sleep gunk and salt from crying, but my eyelashes still hurt when I force them open.
J. My mother. The sick bay. Wires. Scalpel.
I feel so dirty. There’s blood all over me, scabbing and crisp and peeling. I long for my own ship, my own bed, my own life. My den to hide in. But I’m stuck here, at least for now.
I walk to the bathroom, leaving a cocoon of towels on the sofa. There’s a shallow ringing in my ears. My mouth is so dry I’m not sure I could talk. When I open my lips, flakes of red blood fall to the floor. I wonder vaguely if it’s mine.
My left wrist is throbbing. I cradle it against my chest as I sift through drawers for a first-aid kit. I tie it up, and then run a bath. When I rinse the last few days off my skin, it turns the water a pale brown.
Whenever I jar my wrist, J’s actions flash through my mind again. I push them away, focusing on just cleaning myself. One step at a time. Once I’m clean, then I can decide what to do next. Then I can think about all the things I need to do: get back in touch with Molly; learn how to operate this ship; wait for The Infinity to catch up; get rid of the bodies. But for now, all I need to do is clean myself. Brush my hair. Find some clothes. Eat.
One step at a time. Slow and easy. Nothing scary. Nothing to fill me with horror, or freeze me with indecision.
I close my eyes, tipping my head back and letting the water fill my ears until the low throbbing of the ship’s rotation disappears into a heavy silence.
Nice and simple.
HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:
135
Three days later, I finally feel like I can breathe again. I’ve spent most of that time in bed watching TV. Not Loch & Ness – not yet. There are too many reminders of J in everything Jayden says. I watch films instead; every Christmas and holiday romance I can find on The Eternity’s hard drive.
I can’t stop watching. Whenever I go to the kitchen or bathroom, or try to sleep, or even just look away from the screen, J’s face flashes through my mind.
I know I’m going to have to face the memories eventually. I’ve been through this before, when Dad died. Molly used to tell me that I couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened. That I had to work through my feelings and accept them.
But I’m not ready. Not yet.
The only comfort is that I’m not frightened of my mother any more. The thought of Mum just makes me feel achingly, tearfully sad. Which, I think, is an odd kind of progress.
I finally understand her, for the first time in years. I know why she did the things she did. I know why she found it so hard to spend time with me after the deaths of the crew. I don’t blame her. I even miss her now.
She was trying to deal with the bad decisions she’d made in the best way she knew how. She never meant to hurt any of us. She was just too weak, too lost, too guilty.
Everything I am, I get from my parents. I would never have survived J – survived life alone on The Infinity – if it wasn’t for the skills they have given me. My mother taught me about emergency protocols, first aid and ship maintenance. I wouldn’t have known how to detach the wires in the door to escape J, if it hadn’t been for her advice all those years ago. She saved my life.
I’ve done some horrifying things; things I never thought I was capable of. But it was right. I don’t doubt that. It could have been a lot worse. For once, I did what I needed to do. I didn’t panic. I didn’t cry. I just did it.
When I run out of romcoms and my legs start to spasm from lying in one position for too long, I begin to explore the ship. At first, I check around every corner. Some part of my brain is still convinced that J is lying in wait, ready to pounce. But as I cover more ground, I start to relax.
I’m alone. He’s gone, for ever. I defended myself, and I never need to be scared of him again.
When I open the door of a room near the sick bay, it takes me a long time to process what’s inside. Pods. Hundreds of them. Stasis chambers stretch as far as I can see.
As soon as I realize what it means – that the new ship is full of sleeping people, and they are grown-ups, not just embryos – I burst into tears.
I hadn’t imagined there would be any stasis pods on this ship, not after the astronauts died last time. But NASA must have fixed the technology. All this time, J was just the caretaker who stayed awake for the journey. He wasn’t the main passenger.
When I read the name ISAAC EVANS on the front of one of the pods, my tears increase with relief. J didn’t kill him, like I suspected. There’s someone inside, so he must have forced him into stasis so he could get me alone.
I walk the aisles, running my hands across the pods. NASA have sent me a whole colony. There are hundreds of people, right here. I’m never going to be alone again.
I wipe away my tears, and press the REVIVE button on the nearest pod.
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
by TheLoneliestGirl
Fandom: Loch & Ness (2042)
Relationship: Gen
Tags: Space AU
Summary: Lyra is finally at peace.
Author’s note:
Hi Earth, (Hi Molly!)
It’s been a long time. A lot has happened recently, but I’m not quite sure how to put it into words.
The ships have met and joined together now. The Eternity did have to slow down for a while and wait for The Infinity to catch up, but we recovered the speed. Our estimated arrival date on Earth II is now November 2071. I’ll be twenty
.
For once, I’m not scared. I can’t wait. I’m not sure what it will be like on Earth II, or what problems we might have to deal with during the rest of our journey. But whatever happens, I think I can handle it.
Molly, I can’t say that I’ve become the confident, brave woman you hoped I would, but I think I’m getting there. I think I’m going to be OK, Molly. I really do.
Love, Romy
Lyra wiped sweat off her forehead, peering up into the pink sky. She stretched out her back, which ached after a morning spent planting seedlings.
The three moons gleamed brightly overhead, crossing the sky in a not-quite-straight line. Only a few more minutes until they aligned, she decided.
She pulled out her water bottle and drank deeply, eyes following The Infinite Eternity as it landed in a cloud of luminescent dust, bringing in a cargo of minerals to the colony from the next planet over.
“Happy anniversary!” a little girl said as she ran down the lane.
Lyra smiled after her, watching an excitable puppy jump around at the girl’s ankles. When she looked back up at the sky, the moons had made a perfect stripe across the horizon.
“Five years today,” Lyra murmured, hardly able to believe it. “Doesn’t time fly?”
fin.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to my agent, Claire Wilson, and my editors, Emily McDonnell, Emilia Rhodes and Annalie Grainger. You’ve been the dream team. Thanks to everyone at Walker Books, Rogers, Coleridge & White and HarperCollins US, especially Rosie Price, Rosi Crawley, Katarina Jovanovic, Gill Evans, Sorrel Packham, Claudia Medin, Maria Soler Cantón and Iree Pugh.
This novel was supported by an Arts Council England grant.
Thank you to the Ogden Trust for inviting me on a physics symposium during Lower Sixth, where I learnt about special relativity and struggled over a time dilation calculation which inspired this novel. You can read a similar question in the book.
As usual, thank you to my family and friends. Especially Chris for being a sounding board while I calculated transmission dates on my ridiculous Excel spreadsheet, Sarah for #SaveRomySilvers, Alice for the late-night guidance counselling and Mum for the tireless proofreading.
This is a work of fiction. As such, some of the more complex aspects of space travel have been simplified for the sake of the narrative.
LAUREN JAMES was born in 1992 and graduated in 2014 from the University of Nottingham, where she studied Chemistry and Physics. She started writing her first novel during secondary school English classes, because she couldn’t stop thinking about a couple who kept falling in love throughout history. She sold the rights to the novel when she was 21, while she was still at university.
The Next Together has been translated into five languages worldwide and was longlisted for the Branford Boase Award, a prize given to recognize an outstanding novel by a first-time writer.
Lauren is also the author of The Last Beginning, the epic conclusion to The Next Together. Two short stories set in the world of The Next Together series, Another Together and Another Beginning, are also available.
Lauren is a passionate advocate of STEM further education and all of her books feature scientists in prominent roles.
Lauren lives in the West Midlands and is an Arts Council grant recipient. You can find her on Twitter at @Lauren_E_James or on her website: laurenejames.co.uk, where you can subscribe to her newsletter to keep up to date with her new releases and receive bonus content.
ALSO BY LAUREN JAMES
Other books by Lauren James
The Next Together
The Last Beginning
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published in Great Britain 2017 by Walker Books Ltd
87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text © 2017 Lauren James
Cover design © 2017 Walker Books Ltd
Cover photo Big Bang © 2017 Kyoshino / Getty Images
The right of Lauren James to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:
a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-8010-1 (ePub)
www.walker.co.uk