I resist the urge to turn around and stare at the spot where I’d found him. I’ve stared too many times before. Instead, I inspect my nails which lay folded in my lap. It’s odd how different they are from hand to hand. I stare down at the black metal attached to my arm that constitutes for a hand, holding it up and clenching it a few times. Apparently, they’ve come out with technology enabling prosthetic limbs to feel things. To be able to touch something and know it’s consistency, to feel when you’re holding something too tight, or not tight enough. But I’d never gone to get one. I’ve had this type of hand for basically my entire life, switching it out every few years on account of growth spurts. This one will be my last providing it doesn’t break or malfunction in some way or another. It’s strange, but I’ve gotten used to the numbness. I like it, even. I can stick my hand in a burning fireplace, jam it in the door, or hold something as long as I want to without ever feeling a thing. It gives me power to know that I can do anything I want and not have to worry about the pain, even if it’s just for those six inches or so of my body.
Besides, it’s black and kind of rebel-looking.
Suddenly a light flashes across the monitor. A soft, pulsing blue. Nothing to worry about, just Hourglass alerting me of something I might want to take a look at. I lean forward in my chair. No. I scoot forward, leaning over the control panel. I check out coordinates. We’re where I thought we were. But that can’t be right. Something must be malfunctioning. I type in the coordinates and check again. I type in our heading and check that as well. Everything looks good, normal, right. Except for the planet looming ominously before us, shining through the hull of the ship, it’s blue and green tones sparkling in the vast blackness surrounding it.
A planet, I know isn’t supposed to be there. A planet that, according to every chart ever written, doesn’t exist.
* * * *
“What?” I barely breathe. The planet still floats in front of me, glittering through the window, staring me down. “You’re not supposed to be here...” I tell it. “What are you doing?” I glance down at the control panel, as if to check everything over once more, but I’ve already done it a dozen times. I’ve already run a million diagnostics, a million ways to prove that this planet isn’t really here. But it is. “How is this possible?” I murmur. We’ve barely left. A planet this close to Earth, and it hasn’t been charted? It’s impossible, purely impossible. We’ve been in the stars for hundreds of years; everything even remotely nearby has been charted.
I reach over and tap a button to com Holden. “Is...everything okay down there?” I ask, wondering if there’s a simple explanation for this. A blown fuse, something overpowering, a practical joke.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Holden replies over the line. “Why?”
“Just checking,” I answer and shut off the communication link. “Sylvia,” I call, tapping through to the medical wing. “Can you come to the cockpit?”
She’s there in less than a minute, her mouth open, half of her sentence already out before she skids to a stop and just stares. Her mouth hangs open, but her eyes frown in confusion. “Jude, I thought we were going—”
“We are.”
She’s shaking her head. “But there isn’t supposed to be a planet this close by...”
“Check the coordinates,” I order, getting up from the chair and gesturing to the control panel. She walks over and does what I instructed. And she’s silent. For a long, long time.
“This doesn’t make sense,” she eventually utters.
“I know.”
“Hourglass is wacked. It’s old and rusty, something must be wrong with it,” Sylvia declares.
Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “No, I asked Holden, he said everything was fine, and the ship’s been working perfectly up until now. It’s not the detectors or the monitor. That planet’s really there.”
“Jude, that’s impossible!” she cries. “You know there’s no such thing as...that!” She points. “At least not anywhere close to Earth. Either we’ve magically traveled millions of light years in the span of hours, or something’s wrong with your ship.”
I balk for a moment, staring out the window at the disturbingly close planet and trying to find anything illogical with what Sylvia is saying. But the problem is, she’s right. This isn’t possible.
“Hey,” a voice calls and we both turn to see Holden striding into the room. “I just wanted to come up here. You sounded weird over the com link; you alright?”
I’m just about to answer with...what, I’m not even sure, when Holden’s eyes grow wide and his jaw drops. “Whoa, what planet is this?” He steps closer to the window, grinning.
“We’re...not sure,” I tell him, knowing that he doesn’t have the extensive knowledge of stars that Sylvia and I do. He doesn’t realize that anything’s wrong. He’s just gazing, openmouthed at the planet as I watch him with curiosity. It’s not even that attractive, as far as planets go. Heck, I’ve seen all colors, shapes and sizes, and there’s plenty out here that this little planet couldn’t light a candle to. But then I remember this is Holden’s first time in space, most likely the first planet he’s ever really seen.
“Can’t you just check some records or something? The coordinates?” he asks. Sylvia begins rubbing her forehead, staring down at her feet.
“That’s the problem,” I say. “It’s not exactly...on the charts.”
Holden spins around so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t tip over. “You mean we found a planet?” It’s almost like he’s jumping up and down like a little girl. “We found a planet. This is like, historic.”
“No, Holden,” I start to say, holding my hand up to try to stop him. “It’s not like that.” But he’s already streaking from the room, my voice trailing after him down the hallway. I can hear him calling for the others, Jackson in particular. I groan and storm after him. “Holden!” I shout. I reach the rec room just in time to see Holden twisting around to face me, his body growing rigid and his expression serious, like he’s just remembered I’m his captain. The others—Jackson, Gregory, and Angelica—are here as well and from the expressions on their faces I know Holden’s already told them his short version of the story. I resist the urge to groan again and instead stare them all down. I would have to tell them eventually, so it might as well be now.
“What Holden said isn’t true,” I state. “We didn’t find a planet and we’re not explorers.” I see Sylvia enter the room from my peripheral vision. “There is a planet we’ve come across and all we know is that it isn’t charted. That’s all.”
“But wouldn’t that mean we found it...?” Gregory asks.
I balk for a moment and look over to Sylvia for help but she merely shrugs her shoulders and raises her eyebrows. I sigh. “It’s...not possible. You see, everything within practically a million light year-radius of Earth has been charted. And we’re still pretty close. The fact that this planet doesn’t show up on any charts or records is...” I trail off, about to say “impossible” but realize I’ve already said that so many times today and clearly the image of that planet is proving otherwise.
“So this is...some weird unexplained thing?” Jackson asks and I almost laugh at his description before I realize how true it is.
I nod. “Yeah. So...I don’t know if there’s something wrong with our detectors, or I’ve overlooked something in the records but...” I shrug again, completely lost for words.
There’s a long pause and I wonder for a moment if I’ve freaked everybody out. Space is scary enough alone, and adding weird unexplained factors just adds to everyone’s natural fear of it.
“We have to go down there,” Jackson suddenly declares, voicing the idea that was probably the farthest thing from my mind. I turn to him, openmouthed. Going down to a planet that we have absolutely zero information on?
“Are you crazy?” I ask, detecting the high-pitched tone I’d take when Dad or one of the crewmembers came up with some idea I deemed outrageous. But then I remembe
r that I’m the captain and a simple “no” would shut them up.
“How can we pass up this chance?” Jackson shoots back at me, his eyes glinting with the idea of adventure. “Come on, an unknown planet? How cool!”
“No, not cool,” I tell him, making an effort to even out my voice. “We don’t even know if the atmosphere is sustainable for human life.”
“But what if it is? And if it isn’t, we always have the suits.”
I feel like I’m grappling with a child, when I realize that, in essence, I am. Jackson’s sixteen. A space-awed little boy who’s suddenly found himself in the middle of his dream and wants nothing more than to explore space and go on adventures. Only I’ve been on plenty of those types of adventures and I know that they don’t always end well.
“It’d be really cool,” Gregory chimes in from beside him and I’m starting to get a little irritated.
“Guys, it’s a bad idea,” I state firmly.
“Just think about it, Sprocket,” Holden says, flashing me a questioning grin.
I don’t return his smile and instead I glare them all down, thinking now is the time I need to assert my role as leader, to give them an answer they won’t necessarily like but that they’ll have to take. But something in the back of my mind, some nagging little part of me worms its way through my confused thoughts and trills, wouldn’t you like to see the planet too?
And I hesitate.
Sylvia widens her eyes at me and gives me an incredulous look.
“I’ll think about it,” I eventually utter then turn on my heels and leave. As I expected, Sylvia is rushing after me, her shoes clicking furiously against the floor.
“What are you thinking?!” she cries, walking in step beside me. “You’re not actually thinking of going down there?” I’m silent and Sylvia lets out an incredulous sigh. “We don’t even know what that planet is.”
“So what?” I ask her with faked nonchalance. “It would be an adventure.”
“Adventure?! Jude!” She grabs my arm roughly enough to hold me in place, so I spin around to face her. “You and I know better than most that space does not consist solely of adventure,” she hisses. “It’s dangerous, and going down to that planet unprepared is the stupidest idea you’ve ever even considered.”
I stare at Sylvia for a long moment, knowing that her words make sense, but slowly finding reasons to ignore them. “I know it’s...risky,” I tell her. “But don’t you want to find out more about this planet?” I ask, knowing full well from her expression that she does. She’s just as hungrily curious as I am.
Sylvia takes in a deep breath and stares away for a second. “Okay,” she says slowly. “If you want to go down there, then we will.” She’s silent for a moment. “I suppose every captain has to make his or her fair share of risky endeavors.” She’s not smiling, but from the tone of her voice I know she’s teasing me.
“Alright.” I head back down the hallway and into the rec room where everyone is huddled in a circle, whispering amongst each other. Probably betting on whatever we’ll find on the planet. Or if we’ll go at all. When they hear my footsteps they turn in curiosity, and when they notice it’s me they all scramble to their feet. Jackson looks painfully hopeful.
“We’re going,” I say, and then leave them to do whatever they will with that information. I make my way back to the cockpit, the planet spinning through my mind. Uncharted, no information, completely unknown. I stare out the window at the floating orb as it sends its eerie light into the cabin.
What am I doing?
* * * *
The boys are the most excited of all. They’ve been running around, high-fiving each other, and speculating about everything from oxygen to aliens since I’d told them the news. Half of their stories are ridiculously impossible, but I stopped telling them that about twenty minutes in. I was wasting my time. You’d think they’d never researched anything about space, other than science fiction movies.
Sylvia and I are experienced enough to have our fair share of worries, busy figuring out how we’re going to actually pull this off, rather than daydreaming about it. And Angelica is quiet, as usual. I take it she’s the type of person to think things through and assess a situation for what it is. She knows how conceivably dangerous this idea is, while the boys haven’t quite gotten over their excitement to reach that conclusion yet.
We’ve been in orbit around the planet, which I’ve dubbed “Never” on account of its exclusion from any charts, for about twelve hours now. And to tell the truth, I’m a little excited about going down. I’ve been to countless planets over my lifetime. Dad liked to take random excursions when he got the chance, but I’ve never done anything on my own before. Anything, actually. I never even went to school alone. It’s not like I could take off for a day and come home later. This is my first independent act of...teenage stupidity? The idea pops into my mind when I remember how ridiculous this is.
Dad never went gallivanting down to unknown planets.
I shrug the thought away and continue checking the spacesuits. Even though only three of us are actually assigned the title “Scavenger” you’re always supposed to have enough suits for everyone on board. And since Dad’s crew was notably larger than mine, we have more to spare. And they all seem to be in good condition. I’d checked Never’s atmosphere practically minutes after I’d hastily declared we were going down, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake. It’s almost identical to Earth’s, so theoretically we’ll be fine, but I’m forcing everyone to go down in suits just in case. At least until we’re sure we can survive. And I don’t think they really mind. I get the impression that, Gregory especially, is excited to wear an authentic spacesuit. They’ve been mimicking slow-motion moon walking and Darth Vader breathing sounds for hours now. I told them the gravity would be the same on Earth and that spacesuits don’t really make that noise anymore, but apparently they only listen when I’m giving them orders.
And when we’re about to go down to the planet.
We’ve been preparing for hours and finally, I think we’re ready. It scares me to realize I’m making the calls and that everything is on my shoulders. I control the situation and I’m responsible for anything that happens.
But I’ve already made the decision, and we’re going. It’s final. When I tell everyone that it’s time, the guys’ eyes seem to pop out of their heads as they scurry off to whatever jobs I’d assigned them to. Holden and Angelica are, as usual, dealing with the engines, and I’d given Gregory and Jackson smaller jobs like making sure the suits are ready and taking care of the supplies we might need.
Sylvia is with me in the cockpit.
“Is this a stupid idea?” I ask her after everyone’s gone off to their posts and it’s up to me to begin the landing of the ship.
“Yes,” she replies, but winks to let me know she’s teasing me.
I laugh. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.” There really isn’t much for me to do other than type in the coordinates and watch to make sure everything is working smoothly. I’d already scoured the surface and found an area big enough for Hourglass to land, so I simply set the destination and Hourglass shudders as it switches course.
“We’re really doing this,” I say and Sylvia nods silently from beside me. We sit in the quiet for a long moment.
Suddenly a noise crackles over the communication link and Holden’s voice springs into the room. “Are we going?” he asks hurriedly, his voice filled with anticipation.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Holden,” I tell him. “We’re on course.”
Sylvia laughs from beside me and that’s the last sound either of us make before the planet zooms up on us. Suddenly we’ve hit the atmosphere, we’re flying through air, we’re nearing the ground, closer and closer. I watch our position on the screen, how we hover above the soil and rock. Hourglass halts and we feel the impact of something soft yet solid. The vibration rumbles through the ship. Neither Sylvia nor I speak for a long moment as we stare hard at the blinking mon
itor. The light is green, telling us we’re okay, we’re fine, but the stillness of the ship unnerves me – like we’re back on Earth. Finally she lets out a breath of air and I open my mouth to speak.
“We’ve landed.”
Planets and Dreams
“All children, except one, grow up.”
- J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan
Chapter Six
“We’re on the planet,” I say with a smile, turning to Sylvia. She sends a timid grin back. But before we can say anything else, someone bursts into the room and I turn to see Jackson panting in the doorway, a smile stretched tightly across his face.
I snort. “Hi, Jackson.”
“Can we go out?” he asks, his voice significantly more high pitched than normal.
This time I actually laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “Okay, let’s get ready.”
He prances back down the hallway like a kid at Christmas. When Sylvia and I make it to the ramp, everyone else is there waiting. Gregory practically has his hand hovering above the button that opens it.
“Hold on everybody,” I say, and I feel like a teacher on a field trip. “You need to put the suits on.”
Jackson is in his in less than a minute and I leave the rest of them to help each other into theirs. I hurry back to the cockpit and sit down at the controls again. I want to check the area just to make sure there’s nothing to worry about. The atmosphere should be fine, and I’ll check that once I’m out there, but I scan the area for any high levels of heat—any living creatures.
I don’t see anything. Nothing to be worried about, anyway.
I meet up with everyone back at the ramp and am the last person to get into my suit. I can tell they’re all itching to leave the ship, even Angelica, and they sit around impatiently while I zip myself in and then insist on checking everyone else’s just to be sure. Gregory is practically jumping up and down by the time I deem us all ready to leave.
I glance over at Sylvia one last time and she gives me an encouraging smile before I take a breath and press the button on the wall. The ramp slowly slides open. All eyes are wide and our sights are collectively glued to the small sliver of the planet that we see slowly getting bigger, giving us a better view of our surroundings with each passing second. And when the ramp finally thuds to the soft ground, everyone is still with awe. Even Sylvia and I are taken aback, though we've been to countless planets. Probably because this is our first ever, parentless trip.
Hourglass Page 4