Biome

by Ryan Galloway

  “What happened next?” I ask, doing my best to sound neutral.

  “Terra made several stipulations. The Helix was opened. The Stitches were confiscated. The production of Verced was halted and the remainder sealed away. At least for now. Without Dosset, the doctors haven’t refused anything. Though if I’m honest, I don’t see them as much of a threat anymore. Their previous program could only work with Dosset as their leader.”

  “So it all falls on Terra?”

  “In terms of authority, yes. Shiffrin has been acting as stand-in director, helping to carry out all of Terra’s wishes. She and Doctor Mercer have been working with me to figure out how to comply with Terra’s most complicated request.”

  “And that would be…?”

  “Restoration of the memories to their previous owners.”

  His burdened posture gives me pause. Wasn’t that always the plan? Yet as I sit and consider it, I feel a tension grow as two halves of reasoning stretch in opposite directions.

  When we give back their memories the cadets will take on years of buried problems. Everything from Earth that the doctors deemed too troubling, everything on Mars that bred negativity. Such heavy strain at such a volatile time, while everyone is under so much pressure—it could push the colony to the brink of a meltdown.

  And then there’s the news about Earth itself. If we tell the cadets now, it could result in the very chaos that Dosset always feared. But if we don’t, we become like Dosset: We allow our fear of what could happen to dictate what will happen.

  We continue keeping secrets.

  “Needless to say, things are moving very quickly. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell the others,” Romie says, as if channeling my thoughts.

  “About Earth.”

  He nods soberly. I remember the look on his face on the Bridge when he overheard the truth. Until now I hadn’t considered how he must be handling it.

  “So you haven’t told anyone yet?” I ask gently.

  “No. And neither have the doctors, to my knowledge.” He hesitates. “I wasn’t sure what to do, given the present circumstances. Everyone is deeply shaken by the detonation of the bombs. According to Terra, there was quite a panic. How she managed to enforce order… as I said, it’s beyond my understanding.”

  I watch as a pair of cadets enters the cafeteria. When they notice me, they stare just like the gathering crew did. Then they quickly turn into the kitchen.

  It occurs to me that the last thing most cadets heard from Lizzy Engram was my bluff about the virus. That, followed by rumors of my hand in Dosset’s death.

  “Well, it seems as if she exerts quite an influence over them,” I mutter.

  He frowns thoughtfully and returns to picking at the table. “Yes. What I suppose I mean to say is, we’re all in a fragile place.”

  “When is this final Revision supposed to happen?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow. An announcement will be made tonight at dinner. To be clear, Terra isn’t the only one anxious to have her memories back. I confess that I, too, am eager. And yet once everyone remembers the past, I’m not sure if…”

  He seems unable to find the words. While he cleans his glasses, the overheads state fifteen hundred hours.

  “You think we should wait to tell them about Earth,” I finish for him.

  “Not necessarily. I think we should be careful about how we tell them. And I think that you should speak with Terra.”

  “What do you mean?” Something in his tone makes my jaw involuntarily clench. “About what, exactly?”

  “Not anything exactly,” he says delicately. “But as you said, she exerts an influence. It’s a great deal of pressure, to lead others. I saw how it weighed on you, and I can see how it weighs on her. When she learns the truth, she’ll need you. We all will.”

  A cluster of Clovers and two doctors enter the cafeteria. This time, when they notice us, they head straight in our direction.

  “Just… consider the future,” he says. “Once everyone has their memories back, you will surely have a better idea of what to do.”

  I glance at the approaching group, which is nearly upon us.

  “What are you saying, Romie?” I say, barely audible. “That I’ll need to take over once Terra finds out about Earth? That she won’t be fit to lead?”

  He gives me a half-shrug. “I’m saying that I trust you.” Then he turns as the others reach the table. “Gentlemen. Are we ready for the next reclamation phase?”

  “If you are,” says one. The others all stare at me, just like the rest of the cadets. With a conscious effort, I force a smile.

  “Excellent. I’m right behind you.” As he stands, Romie glances down at me. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Elizabeth. You should get cleaned up and organize your thoughts for tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing.”

  He heads off with the group, falling immediately into a brisk conversation.

  As soon as I’m alone, dread begins to work its way down my throat and into the pit of my stomach. Does he expect Terra to become tyrannical just because she’s grieving? Or that she’ll be susceptible to an insurgency by the doctors?

  I can’t overthrow anyone. Not this time. Like he just said, we’re all in too fragile a place. Doing something drastic will almost certainly end in anarchy.

  And here I thought bringing down Dosset would fix things.

  Unable to sit still any longer, I take to the halls. The cadets stare, and the cameras keep silent watch. I wonder if anyone is in the Comm Room to see me as I hurry away, desperate for space free of prying eyes.

  My steps lead me to the showers. It must be around mid-afternoon because the stalls are dry and empty. I kick my clothes into a heap, welcoming the tiny, uncomplicated nook. As I turn on the water flow, the pressure feels higher than normal. Maybe because the biomes are no longer drawing on the colony’s supply.

  I clear my mind by dialing the heat as high as I can bear, blocking out the world, and reveling in the sensation of being clean, even though it stings my wounds.

  When I’m finished, I work out the tangles in my knotted hair, first with my fingers and then with a brush. I clean my teeth. Wrap myself in a microfiber robe, being especially careful with my shoulder, which has already begun to mend, thanks to the Viscerect.

  The methodical tasks give me a small reprieve, but as soon as I finish, my thoughts sink back into turmoil.

  Exactly what does Romie think I should do? What can I do?

  I almost regret the hours lost to sleep, hours I could’ve spent sorting this out. But I quickly realize how necessary they were. By the time I return to the corridors, I’m exhausted. And hungry.

  Since dinner isn’t for another hour, I decide to retire to my pod until someone comes for me. Or at least until I can frame up some kind of reasonable plan.

  Nothing in my pod has been disturbed as far as I can tell. The lamp still lies on its side from where I knocked it, the bed rumpled from when Chloe sat beside me and held my hands, telling me that everything would be all right. That we’d get through this together.

  But will we?

  I sink onto the bed, smoothing the sheets. In the midst of everything that’s happened, I’ve hardly had a chance to think about our friendship. About what our future holds now that she will soon have her memories back.

  Once she knows about my history with Noah, will she cease to be my friend? How will I explain everything to her?

  And what about him? It seems as if Noah has already caught up to where our memories left off, in certain ways. Finding out about our past may just push him over the edge, into…

  What?

  It’s stupid, but even now, even after everything, I don’t really know what I want from him. Could I allow him fully into my world, knowing the power it will give him? As I’ve just so painfully learned with Dosset and Atkinson, my honesty doesn’t guarantee anything. You can’t control other people. Only yourself.

  So the question is, do I really trust him?
<
br />   I don’t have an answer for that. I think I do. But I’m not sure I’m prepared for what he’ll think once he knows what happened.

  Will he see my kiss on the cheek as a sign that I’m ready to move forward into something more? Will he seek assurances I’m not ready to give?

  Assurances I can’t give, I remind myself. Not until I talk to Chloe.

  If I can let her down gently, maybe we can find a way to still be friends. And that conversation will be much easier after her memories are returned and we’re both working with the same set of memories.

  The same truth, as Dosset would have said. Once the truth is out in the open, everything will be different.

  I just don’t know if “different” will be better or worse.

  These thoughts and a million others burn like the tail of a comet hurtling through me as I lie in bed with the lights low. Green numbers count the minutes away. When they finally reach eighteen hundred hours I roll to my feet and a take a long, shuddering breath.

  Whatever comes next, I’ll just have to figure it out. If people are going to insist on trusting me, I should probably start trusting myself.

  Outside my pod, I slip into a stream of cadets who are too weary to notice who I am. We arrive at the Scrub cafeteria, where dozens upon dozens have gathered, packing out the tables with extra chairs, squeezing into narrow spaces and lining up along the walls. From the look of things, each and every cadet is present.

  In the corner near the doors to the kitchen, the doctors can be seen wearing their white lab coats and murmuring softly to one another. Neither Shiffrin, Terra, nor any of my friends are apparent, so I slide in at the back and stand awkwardly beside a group of Clovers, their jumpsuits stained green at the knees.

  Several minutes pass like this, and I can sense a kind of unrest growing. Then the kitchen door bounces open and Terra strides boldly forward, her hair braided back in an elaborate waterfall. Chloe’s handiwork, I feel certain.

  “Hellooo, everyone,” Terra trills as, behind her, Chloe, Noah, and Romie enter. Shiffrin is last, looking just as fatigued as the rest of them. I can’t stop my gaze from following Noah. Just the sight of him causes a nervous weight to sink in my chest. “How is everyone feeling?”

  A general murmur rises in response. More cadets enter from the kitchen, bearing trays of cups, which they begin handing out at the front.

  “Perfect.” Terra walks directly to the center of the room and turns slowly, surveying them all. “Well, we did it. In less than twenty-four hours, we managed to save at least one of each specimen from every single biome.”

  It starts slowly, but the room applauds the announcement.

  “I know you’re all tired,” she says with affected sympathy. “And I know we’d all like to send Romie into orbit for insisting that we work through the night. Right?” She shoots him a look and earns a collective chuckle. “Kidding, of course. Thanks to him, things should go much smoother moving forward. Now, what else?” Her eyes find me and she smiles. It’s not entirely genuine. But it’s not entirely fake, either. “Oh, right. Lizzy is back from the dead.”

  As the room follows her gaze, I feel my cheeks flush. The cadets nearest me draw back as if I’ve become contagious all over again. I do my best to return her smile.

  “Couldn’t let you take all the credit,” I say, trying for a light tone.

  She cocks her head as if trying to decide whether I’m being sarcastic or not. I see a flicker of the animosity I usually get from her. Then her smile slides back into place.

  “Always making it a competition,” she smirks. “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say ‘Thanks for everything—especially not giving us your weird blood disease.’” More uneasy chuckles, but I can tell the room is loosening up.

  “Now,” Terra continues. “I’ve got a few things to cover before dinner. First, we’re having lasagna. Our new administrator, Chloe, says that in order to preserve rations, we’ll need to start watching our diets after tonight. So be ready to stuff yourselves.”

  This is met with real enthusiasm. Hoots and pounding fists on tabletops. As if roused to join in, my stomach growls.

  “Second,” Terra goes on. “Second, a lot of you have asked when I plan to get your stolen memories returned to you. After having a talk with Shiffrin, Romie, and Mercer, we’ve outlined a process of making that happen. Then it’ll be over. No more lies. No more secrets. And, of course, we’ll be taking back your memories from Elizabeth as well.”

  It shouldn’t, but the proclamation catches me off guard. I try not to let it show, keeping my face impassive as I hear grunts of approval around me.

  What’s the problem? I don’t need the memories anymore. I don’t even have a right to them in the first place.

  So why does it feel as if they’re trying to take away a part of me?

  “I’m afraid I can only partly agree to that,” Shiffrin interjects, stepping forward.

  The momentum of the speech grinds to a surprised halt.

  “You aren’t giving the orders anymore,” Terra says, flicking the imposition away with a snap of her wrist. “We are.”

  “This isn’t a matter of authority, Terra,” Shiffrin replies patiently. “I would simply be violating my oath as a doctor if I allowed you to risk the memories of your fellow cadets.”

  Around me, I can feel tension returning to the room.

  “What risk would we be talking about, specifically?”

  “The Memory Bank has always been stored inside the Helix, but it wasn’t the only copy,” says Shiffrin. “There was another kept inside Dosset’s mind. Now that he’s gone, there is only a single transcript of each memory left. It would be irresponsible to destroy the only backup when the original copy has recently suffered an electromagnetic blast.” She glances at me, and there is something I can’t quite identify in her gaze. “Until every cadet’s memories have been safely returned and we can be sure none of those memories were damaged, Lizzy must retain everything.”

  “Is that true?” Terra asks, pivoting to Romie.

  “I suppose,” he replies slowly, frowning at the floor. “I hadn’t considered the possibility that the storage drives might be damaged. But it never hurts to exercise caution. At least, not until our task is complete.”

  Terra looks at me again. This time I can’t read her at all. But her hesitation passes quickly, and she cracks her neck.

  “Great,” she says. “She can intrude on our memories for a couple more hours. Happy?” When Shiffrin nods, her gray hair falls in and out of her face like a curtain. Terra turns to Noah. “You wanted to say something?”

  “I do.”

  He steps forward, face pale, and the room goes silent. I stare at him in disbelief.

  What will he say? Because I know how hard this must be for him. Standing up in front of a crowded room, all eyes on him—this is exactly the kind of situation that triggers his panic.

  My own heart is racing.

  “For those who don’t know me, my name is Noah,” he says, his voice thin. “I was one of the ones who helped stop the doctors… er, Dosset.” He glances at Shiffrin almost apologetically. “I just wanted to say that, even though some of you have questioned how we got here and why certain risks were taken, Lizzy was brave to do what she did. She lived in hiding for an entire week, in constant fear. And she did it for all of you.”

  The crowd shifts uncomfortably, but as he speaks he gains conviction. I stare at my shoes, face burning.

  “Yesterday, Lizzy was forced to run away from the colony. But she came back. To stop Dosset and to ensure that each of you had a chance to know the truth. No matter how extreme you might think her actions were, they were brave. They took wit and fire and intelligence and the most courage that I’ve personally ever seen.”

  His words send a thrill through me, making my skin crawl with pleasure and discomfort. I steal a look at him and see that the purple and green splotches under his eyes have faded, leaving faint, tawny smudges. He looks much better
after the Viscerect. Almost normal.

  I avert my gaze as he glances at me, a wave of heat rolling through my chest.

  “So I’d like to make a toast,” he says in a voice stronger and more confident than I’ve ever heard from him. “To Terra, for reacting under pressure to bring us all together. To Romie, for the guidance he gave. To each of you, for doing what had to be done to preserve the future of our planet. And lastly to Lizzy. For giving us all a brighter future.”

  A cup is placed into my hands, and I look down at the bubbly liquid, the color of amber. Carbonated tea. Only slightly fermented, and I suppose our best stand-in for champagne. I curl my fingers around the plastic and take a sip, aware that everyone is looking at me. One by one, I return their gazes.

  Romie, looking unabashedly proud. Terra, wearing one of her fake, dazzling smiles, though her gaze is brighter than before. Even Shiffrin, watching me steadily with a kind of approval.

  Noah raises his cup, flush with relief at having made it through his speech. I realize that anyone could see how he feels about me. It’s written all over him.

  And that’s when I see Chloe.

  Her eyes are wide with anguish and jealousy, emotions I’ve never seen on her face before. It belatedly hits me that Noah praised each of us except for her. Even though he probably didn’t mean anything by it, it’s an oversight that speaks loudly. His words were unfiltered and honest, and they had the careless edge of a knife point.

  The tea turns to acid in my stomach, my whole body abruptly cold. I want to reach across the room and explain, but what can I say? Her face clouds and she turns away.

  I’m only vaguely aware that Terra has concluded and cadets are rising to dish their plates. Chloe breaks from the crowd, half-running toward the exit. I set my cup aside and follow.

  It isn’t as easy to keep up as it was before. My knee slows me down, and it isn’t until I’ve reached the Scrub Biome that I catch her.

  “Chloe,” I call out. “Stop!”

  She’s opened the portal and made it several meters into the ruined habitat. The strange, tangy wind of Mars pushes back at me, sharp and thin, whistling through the passage. She faces away, but she doesn’t move.