Hope in Paradise

by Elizabeth Kirby

  By then, they had amassed quite the crowd.

  “Hey, you there,” a man shouted at them, “Stop!”

  “Run!” Cynthia yelled to Simon, unlocking the cuffs.

  He turned and grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull away, but to no avail. He tugged her along, sprinting towards the vessel. As they reached the landing ramp, Cynthia twisted her wrist from his hand.

  “I’m sorry!” she told him, racing off in the other direction, ducking behind cover.

  But before Simon could go after her, a volley of shots hurtled toward him, blocking his path. He raced up the ramp, closing it after him. When he reached the cockpit, lasers pounded on the ship.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered, trying to power the thrusters. He didn’t have much time left. They would board soon.

  Please, Cynthia. Please….

  The controls lit up, thrusters burning the floor. As he sped towards the exit, the laser fire ceased. Simon breathed a sigh of relief, and then he looked ahead.

  The exit was sealed.

  Startled, he waved his hand towards the weapons systems and pressed the screen marking the walled-off exit. Immediately, they started firing. He waited for the steel to fall.

  No use.

  He glanced at the system. One more option.

  Missile.

  It was insanely risky; it could inadvertently collapse the entire base. On the other hand, he would gain passage for his escape.

  Without hesitation, Simon jammed his finger against the screen, and the missiles launched.

  A few moments later, they impacted. The explosion rattled the ship, leaning it on its side. Flames rose high above the massive hole left by the weapons. Simon righted the ship and then raced through the burning metal.

  He was free.

  Chapter XIX

  Rayleigh

  “I could have you court martialed.”

  Cynthia sat there silently, taking it all in. For now, she just didn’t care. So what if he threatened to have her court martialed? She’d done what she had to do, and that was helping Simon escape. And what could he really do? Wasn’t this a top-secret facility? Besides, it wasn’t like she was recovering, anyway. Her skin was deathly pale, something Simon hopefully hadn’t noticed. Her eyes were constantly swimming with black, as if on the brink of death. And everyone told her not to pilot again, or it would kill her.

  So what? What did it all add up to? Everyone she ever knew, ever cared about, was either dead or removed from her life forever. And as for the dead, she couldn’t even bury them.

  So, what was the sum total? A slow and painful death? Or one actually worth her time?

  Why hadn’t she gone with him?

  “Are you listening?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  Sir? Really? When had she picked up that habit?

  Rayleigh squinted.

  “I’d like to send you on one final mission before your retirement.”

  Cynthia perked up. “Retirement?” What was he playing at?

  “So, you were listening.”

  Cynthia fumed. “I accept.”

  Rayleigh nodded. “Dismissed. You’ll get the papers in the morning.”

  It’s already morning, she was going to say.

  He sent her off without another word.

  Everyone gave her their sympathies. For her loss, the accident, everything. Why did they do that, exactly? She didn’t know.

  Cynthia laughed; at least the voices had finally gone away. She didn’t want to go back to solitary confinement. She cackled.

  At least… it wouldn’t be long now.

  Which brought the question: if she was so sick then why risk the mission with her? Why not keep her here until her “retirement” was official? If Rayleigh knew something she didn’t, then what did it all mean? What—

  Her head throbbed. Every so often spots danced in her eyes. She coughed up blood, painting the walls with specks of red. She was dying. Of course, she knew that, but still….

  Why did it have to be like this? Why was her life restricted to this base? If she were to die in the sickbay, then what would it all have meant? She wasn’t even close to her goal.

  It was depressing; she couldn’t even remember what that was, her goal. Did it have something to do with her home… what was it called? She nearly collapsed with frustration. What was it called? Ar…ar…

  Arcadia?

  Yes, that was it. That was her home. It felt like so long ago that she had left with Simon.

  Why had she left? Why…?

  “Hello?”

  Cynthia glanced up. A fellow pilot. She must have seemed like a ghost to him. He held out a hand. “Come on, let’s get you up.” Cynthia took it and was pulled up. “Where’s your room?”

  “Down the hall,” she mumbled.

  The man nodded.

  When the pilot dropped her off at her dorm, she had muttered a quick “thanks” and closed the door, nearly falling over with exhaustion. A cold sweat had broken out over her body. Her forehead was feverish. She closed her eyes for a moment of rest.

  She woke up vomiting.

  She ended up in sickbay, as usual. Someone had found her cowering in the corner. She had finally remembered. Cynthia lowered her head to cover the tears. She started shaking. That’s right. It was all the Alliance’s fault for Arcadia’s destruction. It was all their fault.

  “Miss?” A sweet voice. Cynthia looked up. A nurse.

  “Yes?” Her voice sounded hoarse again.

  The nurse held out a small cup filled with tablets. “It’s time to take your pills.”

  I don’t need them.

  But instead of stating that, she took the plastic and said, “Thank you,” with a smile.

  The nurse watched her for a moment as she swallowed them and then briskly walked away.

  She spat them out, dumping them in the trash can without a second thought. Did they really think she was that insane? Or was it for the symptoms? Well, whatever the case, they were gone now, out of her system—

  Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she fainted.

  “I see you’re awake.”

  She replied in incoherent grunts. What did they have her on? Her eyes opened, scanning back and forth across the room. Wrist straps secured her hands to the rails of the bed.

  “What… are…. you… doing… here?” Cynthia whispered.

  His voice softened, if only slightly. “You’re a valuable pilot, I can’t have you clock out just yet.”

  She laughed, although it came out a croak. “How can… I not….” She didn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes began to close again.

  “Don’t get all sentimental on me now.” His voice faded away with the wind.

  Cynthia Wood awoke for the third time in twenty-four hours. The wrist straps were slowly unraveled, leaving a reddish mark wrapping around her wrists. The IVs were pulled out as well. Soon, the color returned to her cheeks.

  A lucky call, the doctors had told her.

  It was far cry from that. In fact, it was worse now than it had ever been. Usually, when she felt pain, it was numbing. Now it was like she was being burned alive. It came in flares, spiking her temperature. Morphine became useless. She writhed in agony as time passed.

  In her delirium, she saw someone. A shadow.

  “…Grand…mother?” The figure didn’t move.

  Her eyes swept the room.

  “Mother… Father…”

  She reached out toward them, but they receded into the wall. Shock filled her. Why did they leave? Why did they always leave? She called out to them, struggling against the restraints.

  “Mother, Father! Come back, please! Pl—”

  The nurses came running, sedating her when they arrived.

  She woke up again an hour later, her eyes as glassy as ice. It wouldn’t be long now, and yet she was still there. How many times had she been like this now? Once, twice? She couldn’t remember, there was too many.

  So, she stared at the ceiling,
listening to the footsteps passing by.

  “What have you gotten yourself into now, Cynthia?”

  Her gaze shifted to her right, and her eyes widened.

  “Simon, what are you—”

  “Shhh.” He put his finger to his lips. “I heard you’d gotten a nasty fever.” She stared up at him. “Don’t panic, your grandmother let me in.”

  It wasn’t him, but….

  Another memory, I suppose?

  Cynthia laughed through the pain in her heart. Why did it always have to be like this? As far as she could tell, he was always saving her, whether it be from falling or something else. Why couldn’t it be the other way around for once? Why couldn’t she save him?

  “You have.” Simon smiled gently as he replaced the towel on her forehead.

  “I never—” She couldn’t speak. A lump had formed in her throat. She had never—

  “Of course, of course.” He nodded.

  He was gone.

  It was simple, her train of thought. It was so simple that she was surprised that nobody had read through her like a book by now. She was transparent, yet thick as steel. On Arcadia, everyone knew her, her thoughts and feelings, all of it. But as the years went on, she’d blocked herself off, if only for a short while. Then she’d found a new life, and piloting.

  She had laughed and cried and enjoyed her time with them. And now that they were gone…

  Besides piloting, what else could she do? Run, escape as he did?

  No, she couldn’t.

  She had decided that.

  When they finally released her from the infirmary, everyone seemed relieved, somehow.

  “Congratulations.”

  She brushed them away.

  Cynthia swerved to find Rayleigh leaning on the wall. For a moment, she watched him, and then turned to leave. He asked, “Did you read the file yet?”

  “Why should I?” she replied, beginning to walk away. “It’s not like I’d be of any use now.”

  “That’s why it’s your last mission.”

  “No.”

  She heard him as she reached her door.

  “But it’s your home.”

  Cynthia looked at him. “What…?”

  Rayleigh waited. When he didn’t answer, she stepped toward him. He answered on her third step. “Arcadia.” The man smiled. “That’s your home, isn’t it?”

  No, it isn’t. It—

  “Yes, it is.” It’s an important place to me, nothing… nothing more. That place has been gone for a long time now.

  Now it is….

  “Well then, time to go, wouldn’t you say?” Rayleigh knew he’d won.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll see you soon.” His footsteps echoed in the empty hall.

  She was speechless. How could she respond to that? Rather than remark on something completely unrelated, he’d actually smiled. Why?

  As she walked inside her dorm and the lights flickered on, she felt a breeze and smelled the faint scent of autumn leaves. Did she really miss it that much? Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? How come?

  A ping came from everywhere all at once. We need you here, now. Cynthia laughed, broken from her thoughts—what had happened now?

  As it turned out, it was all for naught. When she sprinted into the hangar, Daniel explained the situation. “False alarm. The console went haywire, and we just reacted. Sorry.” They all mumbled apologies. “Well, look on the bright side, we fixed it!” Cynthia glared at him, and Daniel shrank back.

  Instead of returning to her room, she sat on the sidelines, silently gazing out at the bustling stations, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She chuckled when the third station lit up blue, sending everyone into a panicked frenzy. Was everything on the fritz these days?

  She glanced up at the machine beside her. Elpis, the engineers named it. Fourth Generation, first batch. Even though she should’ve been elated at the prospect of advanced machinery, her stomach churned at the sight. Who did the Alliance have to overcome to get these plans?

  Why hadn’t she stopped them yet? Wasn’t her original goal turning the Alliance around, making them see anew? After all these years, she couldn’t even accomplish that.

  Was she cursed to remain a pilot forever?

  The alarms sounded and she didn’t even notice. At first, it was a distant chime. Eventually, she noticed the mechanics running, and then the pilots jumping into their cockpits. Actually, what struck her as odd wasn’t the commotion, it was the fact she couldn’t hear it.

  Are you still fit to pilot, Ms. Wood?

  Rayleigh.

  I…

  Cynthia stared down at the floor. Was she?

  Of course she was; it was the only option she had left.

  Yes, I am.

  “All right then. Report to Genesis immediately.”

  Huh?

  She saw him near the entrance, gesturing with his hands at something she couldn’t see.

  Go.

  Time quickened, returning to its original state. Standing from the edge, she hurried to Genesis. By the time she arrived, the cockpit was being lowered. Others were already launching.

  “Wait, you don’t even have your suit—” Daniel said from the console.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He sighed, unsealing the cockpit.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Once the machine started and the magenta flared around the cockpit, she was finally ready. Although for what, she couldn’t begin to imagine. What would it be like, returning? What would she feel, if anything? It had been so long. Vaguely, she could still remember being weightless in the cargo bay, the dust particles floating aimlessly through the sunlight.

  “Genesis, ready for launch?”

  “Yes.”

  The countdown began.

  10…

  It had been like this since the beginning, hadn’t it? She was always waiting for a countdown.

  …5…4…3…2…

  Hopefully it was still be there, that mountain. Maybe the tree as well.

  There was only one way to find out.

  …1… lift-off!

  Chapter XX

  Starlight

  The sun rose from deep below, blinding the viewscreens with its immense light. What had once been a viable escape route now was a huge labyrinth. Ever since his escape, nothing had worked correctly. All of the electronics were fried. Even though the scanners had brought him here, this, too, was the wrong destination. His ship was nowhere near Shadow.

  Simon analyzed his situation for the fifth time, not realizing that, in fact, the craft was picking up unusual frequencies. By the time he noticed, he had nearly given up. The ship was drifting.

  A blip. Another, and another. Twenty spacecrafts within his vicinity. He jumped on the opportunity. Hastily typing an SOS onto the console, he sent a message over to the arrivals. With luck, it had been sent successfully.

  Five minutes later, he got a reply.

  Laser fire.

  The hot plasma hit the ship with tremendous force, knocking it askew. In moments, it was spinning like a pinwheel away from the star. Inside, alarms blared as Simon was thrown about. He managed to grab ahold of his chair, quickly pulling down an emergency bypass handle before being thrown back to the wall again.

  3… 2… 1…

  The craft stabilized, albeit still hurtling into unknown space. He looked back behind him, checking to see if there was any more laser fire.

  Nothing.

  He would have cheered if not for his next problem: a collision course. Something was definitely heading his way… but what? The proximity alarms were deafening, but the viewscreens had been knocked offline.

  Then he felt it: thousands of pebbles crashing into the hull at what felt like a thousand kilometers an hour. More alarms warbled, showing Simon what his eyes couldn’t see: an asteroid belt.

  Suddenly, the alarms ceased their commotion, and the outside world came into view. Yet….
<
br />   He felt a jolt course through his body and he crumpled to the floor.

  By the time he awoke, it had all gone downhill. His repairs, all of it. When he stood, Simon bumped his head on a pipe. He looked up to see it dangling from the ceiling, leaking some unknown fluid from several gashes along its side. Three more pipes were cracked and leaking near the consoles.

  Simon stumbled over to them, leaning on slanted metallic plates as he went. His expression turned grim when he reached them—they too were damaged, and wires, chips, and the like were strewn all over the floor.

  Emergency lights lit up, casting the entire ship in a dull orange glow. The light exposed the pipes, revealing more depressions and small scratches. Silver gas floated around the cockpit.

  And…

  Bits of ice?

  What exactly was leaking through those pipes? Frozen nitrogen? In the semi-darkness, he couldn’t be sure. At least the screen was operational. Outside, only a few splotches of stars here and there could be seen.

  How far out was he?

  Right, now where are those charges? Simon thought as he stood, his eyes adjusting to the dimness. If he could jump start the ship, then he was home free. Usually, they were located below the CPU on the central console, but when he peered inside…

  Nothing.

  Maybe they shifted? He searched the underside of the other—no luck. He panicked slightly. Had they not been on board to begin with?

  He shivered. Why was it so cold?

  The gaseous substance reduced his visibility, clouding the air like a fog.

  When he peered through it, he saw something: a crack in the glass. So how was he still breathing? His eyes scanned the miniscule scratch, and he smiled.

  The sealant had worked. But not completely; it wouldn’t have been chilly otherwise. And by the looks of it, the oxygen supply was running low. Soon it would be depleted.

  He began breathing heavily, but tried to slow it before crawling over to the main board.

  Some of the keys pulsated at random intervals, coloring the fog green or blue. Others were fixed, their yellow shining like a lighthouse in the night.

  Is this it? Simon stared off into the gloom. His breath crystallized in the air, and the air he inhaled was frigid. Goosebumps formed on his skin, and it was paler than usual.