Lucas looked around. This had been his home for as long as he could remember. He knew every centimeter of it, from the cramped cockpit to the dingy, oil-stained engine room. But that old familiarity wasn’t enough anymore. Already the Josey Wales felt too small for him. As much as the ship tugged at him, there was a stronger force pulling him away, toward the Orpheus.
“I’m sure.”
“All right,” Tomas said. “Just remember what we talked about, okay?”
He pulled a wrench from a hook on the wall and banged three times on the airlock door. After a few moments, three quick clanks sounded in response from the other side. Lucas flipped a switch and the door slid open, revealing the interior of the docking connectors. Their half of the small enclosure was dirty and gray, covered with years of scuffs and boot prints and streaks of mining dust.
The Orpheus’s docking connector, on the other hand, was so white it almost hurt Lucas’s eyes. A Navy officer in a blue uniform floated in the airlock on the opposite side. He was burly and mustached, with arms that were as big around as Lucas’s legs. He’d obviously been born on Earth, but he carried himself with the ease of someone who’d been in space for most of their life. The name tag on his chest read Ensign Mendoza.
Mendoza wrinkled his nose and looked them up and down. Lucas was glad he’d taken his father’s advice about cleaning up—even with his face washed and wearing his neatest jumpsuit, he was grimy compared with Mendoza. Among Belters, being dirty was a badge of honor. He could already tell that wasn’t true on a Navy cruiser.
“I was told you’d be here two hours ago,” Mendoza said. “Can’t you bother to read a delivery schedule?”
Tomas tilted his head to one side. “I think there’s been some confusion,” Tomas said. “If you’ll ask your captain—”
“Our captain?” Mendoza said, screwing up his face in disbelief. “Our captain has a lot more to worry about than fruit cups and toilet paper.”
Fruit cups and toilet paper? Anger boiled up inside Lucas. “But—”
Tomas put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder and squeezed. “We aren’t here to deliver cargo. My son is here to enroll as a cadet.”
Mendoza snorted. “Listen, bud, how about we cut the jokes and you start unloading whatever junk you’re here to deliver?”
“I’m not joking,” Tomas said. His voice was no louder than before, but now it had a hard edge to it. “Call your captain if you don’t believe me.”
“I already told you, I’m not bothering our captain right now.” Mendoza glanced at the stumps of Tomas’s legs. “If this is just a way to get me to help you unload everything—”
“Lucas,” came Captain Sanchez’s voice from the corridor. “Mr. Adebayo. It’s good to have you on board.”
Sanchez slid through the inner airlock door and smiled politely at them. Mendoza pulled himself to attention so sharply that he floated toward the ceiling of the airlock and had to reach up awkwardly to keep from hitting his head.
“A pleasure, ma’am,” Tomas said, glancing with satisfaction at Mendoza’s astonished expression.
“We’re due to begin acceleration in less than an hour,” Sanchez said. “So we’ll have to keep this short. Let’s get you to your bunk so you can get some sleep. Classes start tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas said, but suddenly his excitement was gone. What if his dad was right? What if all of this was a gigantic mistake? And how was his dad going to manage on the Josey Wales without someone to help? He’d have to do everything himself, from flying the ship to repairs to cooking and cleaning. Anyone who runs a mining ship by themselves is either crazy or will be soon, he liked to say. Lucas couldn’t leave him like this.
Lucas moved back into the docking connector, pulling his dad with him. “I think we should wait,” he whispered.
“Wait?” Tomas asked. “What do you mean?”
“You need a partner,” Lucas said, the words coming out in a jumbled rush. “I can’t leave you alone. How are you going to do it all by yourself? Let’s go back to Ceres and find a copilot. Then we can meet up with the Orpheus and I’ll start school. I’m sure they’ll let me if we just explain why.”
Tomas was silent for a long, long moment. His face was so neutral it was practically expressionless. What was he thinking? Why wouldn’t he answer? Lucas dug his fingernails rhythmically into the palms of his hands. He could feel Mendoza and Sanchez watching them from the Orpheus’s airlock.
“You’re going to be fine,” his dad said finally. He kissed Lucas gently on his forehead. “Just keep your head on straight.”
Lucas blinked. Had his dad not heard a word he’d said? “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you! How are you—”
“Don’t worry about me,” his dad said, escorting him gently back into the Orpheus’s airlock. “I’ll see you when the term is over.”
Lucas’s mouth fell open in astonishment. He needed to find a way to make his dad understand before it was too late. But everything that was happening felt completely out of his control, as if he was watching it play out on a video screen.
“Your son is in good hands, Mr. Adebayo,” Sanchez said.
Tomas nodded. He squeezed Lucas’s arm and disappeared back into the docking connector. Lucas recovered his wits in time to reach out toward the airlock door just as it slid shut with a quiet click, leaving him alone with the two Navy officers.
“This way, Cadet,” Sanchez said.
Numbly, Lucas followed Captain Sanchez through the Orpheus’s airlock and into a wide corridor. Every surface looked like it had been hand polished, from the control panels on the wall to the handholds on the ceiling and floor. Lucas was almost afraid to touch the walls, worried that his hands would leave dirty fingerprints on the gleaming metal. He paused for a moment and gaped at the curving transplastic windows that ran along the outer wall. Windows, other than the main cockpit canopy, were a luxury that a cargo hauler couldn’t afford. Already the Orpheus felt completely unlike any ship he’d ever been on.
Lucas watched his father smoothly pivot the Josey Wales and nudge her away from the docking connector using only a tiny amount of thrust, a maneuver that was much harder than it looked. It was a subtle display of skill that made Lucas’s heart ache. He realized that he’d always thought of his dad as just a miner and not as an accomplished pilot in his own right. Why did it take coming here to the Orpheus for him to see that more clearly?
“Ensign Mendoza will escort you to your berth,” Sanchez said. “The other cadets in your section will help you get settled.”
“Come with me,” Mendoza said. He propelled himself down the hallway and then grabbed a handhold to swing into a side passage. Lucas looped his duffel bag over his shoulder and followed after him. They turned down a wide passage marked BROADWAY that ran straight up to the bridge at the very front of the ship, where Lucas could see the dim glow of instrument panels and the faint shimmer of starlight. A ladder ran down the middle of the corridor, passing through six bulkheads that separated the various decks.
Mendoza pointed at a large darkened room behind them. “Rec room. Also the mess room. Past that are classrooms, hangar, and engineering.”
He nodded at the ladder. “Decks one through seven, and then the bridge. Do not go onto the bridge without permission.”
Lucas nodded, trying to absorb everything around him. Mendoza grabbed the ladder and pulled himself along until he reached the third deck from the bottom.
“This is alpha section.” He indicated a closed door on one side of the circular deck. “That’s the bunkroom for first-years.”
“Thank you,” Lucas said, uncertain of what else to say.
Mendoza snorted. He started back down the ladder, and then he stopped and looked back up at Lucas.
“Kid,” he said, shaking his head, “you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
3
LUCAS WRAPPED HIS arms around his chest and stared at the retreating silhouette of Ensign Mendoza. Y
ou have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. What did he mean by that?
He looked around uneasily. The ship was unbearably quiet. On the Josey Wales, there were always background sounds: the hiss of the air recycler, the chugging of coolant pipes, or the rattle of screws in the ventilation ducts. But here on the Orpheus, there was almost nothing.
He tapped on the touch panel next to his bunkroom, and the door slid open. The room was dark except for the dim glow of starlight through a large circular window. Sleep sacks were lined up on all three walls. Two of them were occupied, but the third was empty. He floated inside and closed the door.
As his eyes adjusted to the near blackness, he heard a rustling from one of the sleep sacks. He was trying to decide whether to say something or just let everyone keep sleeping when someone grabbed him by his arm.
“Got you!” a voice shouted. Lucas tried to pull away, but the grip on his arm was too tight. The lights came on, and he was suddenly face-to-face with a tall girl with close-cropped blond hair.
“Elena, turn off the lights,” a boy moaned from one of the sleep sacks.
“This time I’ve caught him!” Elena shouted. She shook Lucas by the arm. “Which section are you in?”
“I’m in alpha section,” Lucas said. “Let go of me!”
“This is alpha section, nummer!”
“I just got here,” he said. “Mendoza told me this was where I’m supposed to bunk.”
The boy poked his head out of his sleep sack. “That doesn’t make sense. The last transport arrived two days ago.”
“He’s lying,” Elena insisted.
“He’s got a bag of stuff,” the boy observed. “And he’s not wearing a uniform. Maybe he did just get here.”
Elena poked Lucas in the chest, causing him to drift backward a few centimeters. “So who are you?” she demanded. “Where are you from?”
Lucas sighed. This was really not how he’d wanted to start things off. “My name is Lucas. I flew here from Ceres.”
They stared at him in astonished silence. “Ceres is an asteroid,” Lucas added helpfully.
“We know what Ceres is,” Elena snapped. “Are you saying you’re from the Belt?”
“Yes,” Lucas said, trying to be patient. “I’m from the Belt.”
“I heard we were going to have a Belter cadet,” the boy said. “But I didn’t know it would be in our section.”
Without leaving his sleep sack, he stretched out and shook Lucas’s hand. “I’m Rahul. You’ve met our resident enforcer, Elena.”
“Someone’s got to keep watch,” Elena grumbled. “Yesterday one of the other sections left a bag of . . . fecal matter floating in the middle of our room.”
“And you’re going to make them pay,” Rahul said, yawning. “I know. Lucas, I guess that sleep sack is yours. You’ve got uniforms there too.”
Lucas opened a drawer that was set into the wall next to his sleep sack. Inside, he found a set of four gray jumpsuits and two white uniform jackets with red insignias on the shoulders. He started to take off his own dust-covered jumpsuit, glad that he could wear something that wouldn’t make him stick out so much.
Elena cleared her throat. “Shower stalls are across the hall.”
Lucas stopped with his zipper pulled down to his navel. Did he smell bad? “I took a shower a few days ago.”
Rahul and Elena stared at him. He could tell that he’d said something strange, but he couldn’t understand what it was. How often did groundside kids take showers? Surely not more than once a week?
“That’s good, I guess,” Rahul said carefully. “But if you’re not going to take a shower, then you should at least change in private.”
In private? Was he being serious? From the way the two of them were looking at him, he was pretty sure that he was. Lucas looked around. Where was he supposed to go?
Rahul stretched out his arm and tapped a small button on the wall next to Lucas’s sleep sack. Instantly the rest of the cabin disappeared, leaving Lucas in a small area enclosed by blurry gray walls. Rahul pulled his arm back and disappeared completely.
A privacy field, just for his own bunk? That was even more insane than having a shower area on each deck. There wasn’t enough room on a Belter ship for any kind of privacy, and there certainly wasn’t enough money to install dedicated fields for each bunk. He started pulling on a clean jumpsuit, mentally revising his list of things he was going to have to get used to.
When he was finished, he turned off the privacy field and held up one of the uniform jackets. The cloth was coarse and old-fashioned, and the collar was so stiff it was almost razor sharp. A tingle of excitement ran through him. How many times had he imagined himself wearing one of these? He slid it on and flexed his arms experimentally. The jacket felt tight and constricting. How did anyone move while wearing this? He tried rolling up the sleeves a little, but the cuffs were almost as stiff as the collar. He sighed and put the jacket back in the drawer. Apparently even the uniforms here were going to take some time to get used to.
A voice came over the ship’s intercom system. “All hands, prepare for acceleration in two minutes. Repeat, acceleration in two minutes.”
A girl of around fifteen or sixteen poked her head through the cabin door. “What’s going on in here? Why is the door open?”
Rahul and Elena both looked at Lucas. “I’m new. I was just—”
“Never mind. I don’t really care. Get in your bunk for acceleration.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “What stinks in here?”
Lucas turned red. He looked down at the civilian jumpsuit he had stuffed into a corner of the drawer. Did it really smell that bad? He quickly shoved the drawer closed. The girl looked at him for a moment as if she was going to say something else, and then she shook her head and closed the cabin door.
“Well, now you’ve met Maria,” Elena said. “She’s gamma-section leader.”
“She’s a little . . . prickly,” Rahul added helpfully.
“All hands, acceleration in one minute,” the intercom said.
Lucas climbed into his sleep sack and waited. The rumble of the engines was quiet at first but soon grew to a dull roar that he could feel as much as hear. The acceleration pushed him down into his sleep sack like an invisible hand against his chest. He squirmed back and forth, trying to get comfortable. Was this a normal burn, or some kind of emergency maneuver? Back on the Josey Wales, his dad had always insisted on the most efficient course changes possible to conserve fuel. Clearly that wasn’t an issue in the Navy.
“We’re committed now,” Rahul said, turning off the lights. “Night, guys.”
Through the window on the wall, Lucas could see the cup of the Big Dipper and the tail of Draco. He reached out and touched the cold transplastic window. Had he made the right choice? Or did it even matter at this point? Like Rahul had said, they were all committed now.
He had a sudden memory of a night when he’d woken up from a nightmare back on the Josey Wales. He’d been what—five or six years old? In the dream, he was back inside the old pressure dome on Ceres with his mother, right before the accident, and even though he knew what was going to happen, he couldn’t tell her, no matter how hard he tried. Then the dome had cracked, and everyone had started running. . . .
He’d woken up screaming. His father had rushed in to comfort him and tell him all the usual things: it was just a dream, it wasn’t real, there was nothing to be afraid of. He asked Lucas to tell him what the nightmare was about, but Lucas had just shaken his head. Talking about it made it seem even more real.
When his dad left, though, Tali had come in and climbed into his sleep sack with him. She’d only been around nine years old at the time, but she had seemed so grown-up to him. For a while she’d just held his head against her chest. Then she’d bent her head and whispered in his ear.
I have the same dream sometimes.
Had she really known what his dream was about? Or had she just said that to make him feel better? Somehow he
felt that she really did know—after all, her parents had died in the same accident. But either way, it had worked. He’d fallen asleep almost immediately.
That had all been a long time ago. If he had a nightmare tonight, his sister wasn’t going to come running. But at least she was here on the same ship—and that was a start. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
“Reveille!” a deep voice shouted.
Lucas flipped over in his sleep sack. It couldn’t possibly be time to wake up already. He felt sure he’d only fallen asleep a few minutes ago. He opened his eyes and saw Elena and Rahul climbing out of their bunks.
“They’ve got a thing here about punctuality,” Elena said, yawning. “So I recommend you get yourself up before they come looking for you.”
As if on cue, a big red-haired boy stuck his head into the room. “Everyone up. Breakfast.”
He paused and studied Lucas for a moment. “You’re the new cadet?” he asked. “I’m Oliver. Beta-section leader.”
He stretched out and shook Lucas’s hand. “Uh, nice to meet you,” Lucas stammered.
“You too,” Oliver said cheerfully. “Now get your butt out of bed.”
He disappeared back into the hallway. Lucas slid out of his bunk and stretched his arms. The acceleration had stopped during the night, and they were back in free fall. He squeezed a tube of tooth gel into his mouth, swished it around with some water, and spit it all into a towel.
“Someday I’m going to learn how to do that,” Rahul said, watching him wistfully. “But every morning I end up with tooth gel floating everywhere.”
Lucas felt guilty as he remembered how angry he’d been at the thought of a ship full of kids who didn’t know how to brush their teeth. “I can teach you,” he offered.
“Chow time!” Maria shouted from the hallway. “Breakfast in five minutes!”
Rahul worked his way around the room toward the door, moving awkwardly and keeping a grip on a handhold the entire time. Elena waited patiently and then floated after him with graceful, economical movements.
“Have you spent much time in space?” Lucas asked her, grabbing his uniform jacket and hurrying after them.
The Orpheus Plot Page 3