by Ramona Finn
He paused when an idea hit him, and stepped aside for a group of gray-suited techs on their way to one of the machine rooms. Two of the women in the group turned to look at him and then put their heads together as they skittered away, giggling.
Dahn frowned, but immediately paced away; he’d just realized what he should do for Glade, and he didn’t have time for giggling techs. He started into a jog back toward his own quarters. He didn’t give the techs another thought. It wasn’t uncommon for women to look at Dahn. Sometimes it bothered him and sometimes he barely noticed. Mostly, he just thought it was unprofessional. Sometimes even other Datapoints giggled or touched one of his arms or followed him with their eyes. That was completely confusing to him, truth be told. Datapoints were supposed to be as close to emotionless as possible. They definitely weren’t supposed to flirt and have crushes on each other.
Dahn skidded through the doorway of his bunk room, a little out of breath. Being a graduated Datapoint, he was in another wing of the Station than Glade and had his own room. He opened up the small set of drawers next to his twin bed and dug out the familiar item before he shoved it in his pocket. He was just closing the drawer when something caught his eye. Something he’d found a long time ago, though he’d never quite found the right moment to give it to her.
He shoved that in his pocket, as well, and was out his door in a flash. Dahn checked the simulation room, in case she was getting some practice in, but when she wasn’t there, he once again headed in the direction of her bunk.
When he was just forty feet from her door, there was a strange, loose flipping in Dahn’s stomach. In the past, whenever Dahn had encountered a roadblock, he’d been able to practice or study or work his way past it. But Glade had never been like that. Through his entire relationship with her, she’d always been something that he’d never been able to figure out. She had a pattern, he was certain of it, but he’d never been able to follow it. Sometimes he excelled at being her friend, but he never quite understood why, and he was rarely able to repeat the results as he wished.
He ducked through the door of her bunk, but Dahn’s brow furrowed and he felt strangely like his limbs had just gotten a bit heavier when he realized that her room was empty. If she wasn’t in the simulation room and she wasn’t in her bunk, then where the hell was she? He’d wanted to give her these gifts in person.
It was an experiment, he told himself. He’d give her this stuff and then he’d watch her very carefully to see what her reaction was. That would help him figure out how to… to what? he asked himself, almost savagely.
To what?
It would help him figure out how to be a better friend? How to make her laugh? How to make her happy? Or even worse, it would help him figure out how to be more than a friend to her?
He’d never quite thought those words in his head before, and they instantly horrified him. Like a delicate flower faced with harsh sun, something in his chest shriveled.
Dahn pulled out the two items from his pocket and felt shame wash over him. Haven had just given him a new role, a leadership role, and also confided confidential information to Dahn. And here he was, blushing over Glade and trying to gift her children’s toys? Humiliation was hot behind his ears, and a line of sweat worked itself down his spine.
What the hell was he doing? He needed to leave here, and to stop worrying about Glade Io and start preparing for the monumental task and honor that Haven had just bestowed upon him. Dahn had been waiting damn near his entire life for an opportunity like this. He wasn’t going to waste the moment. He’d had to say goodbye to being the best Datapoint there ever was. Glade held that title now. But he could excel at this job. He could still catch the eye of the Authority. Two members were most likely going to retire in the next few years. They could still look to Dahn as a replacement if he didn’t lose focus now.
He thought about the walk he’d be taking all the way back through the Station, with the humiliating toys in his pockets. Each step would remind him of his own weaknesses if he kept them. He needed to either put them down the garbage shoot in the hall, or leave them behind. He had work to do.
He strode over to Glade’s bunk and ripped the curtain back. And there, he immediately softened, like a ball of wax in a warm hand, when he saw that her covers were rumpled from that morning. She hadn’t made her bed. And, for some reason, that just kind of… got to him.
Another wave of shame and humiliation coursed through him. How was he ever going to get a handle on this? This feeling that seemed to grow whether he fed and watered it or not? He thought of her black, tilted eyes, and the swing of shiny dark hair. Her frowning face and slightly uneven gait. If he could have surgically removed the fluttering feeling in his chest, he would have done it without question. Without looking back.
Dahn set the two toys on her pillow and pulled the curtain of her bunk back into place. He strode away without looking back.
I stepped carefully out of Haven’s office, and then down the brown and gray hall like I was headed toward the landing pad. And maybe I was. Cast was usually there, and it was fine for Datapoints to observe the maintenance of the skips. They needed to know the basics of upkeep.
Realizing I was better off with some destination in mind, that’s where I headed. The hidden comm on my tech practically burned my arm, but I couldn’t stop in the hallway like this. I needed to read the message so badly my eyes were blurring, but I had to ignore it for now, and appear normal. The message would have to wait, so I didn’t touch my tech again, and once I got where I was going, I didn’t look away from the maintenance demonstration in front of me.
Cast wasn’t around, and thank God for that, now that I thought about it. I didn’t think I had it in me to fool one more person today. I knew that I’d barely fooled Dahn and Haven back there in his office.
If I hadn’t had years of practice at giving everyone a completely neutral expression, I probably would have torn my hair to the ends and screamed, ‘You’re a psycho!’ at Haven. Luckily, I’d restrained myself. Hence, me still being alive.
Figuring I’d put up a facade for long enough, I sidled away from the mechanic who was lecturing a group of younger Datapoints on basic thruster maintenance and made my way to another part of the landing pad.
It was a much busier time of day than when Kupier and I had done this exact same thing, but I knew it was just a matter of looking busy and waiting for the right moment. I studied a delivery of engine fans and waited until my tech told me I was alone in that slightly obscured corner of the landing pad. The hulking skips shadowed me, and someone would have to be looking right at me in order for me to be seen.
Well, I’d just have to take that chance. I slid over to the corner and quickly hoisted myself up with the help of a crate and some bolts I used as handholds. My fingers trembled and I made a mental note to start sparring with Dahn again. I was going a little soft. I extended one arm to the vent grate above me and wiggled it loose. I’d known it would be a bit loose because Kupier had made it that way when he’d visited me here on the Station. This was how he’d moved around without getting caught and flayed alive. Through the vents.
The vent grate came loose with just the slightest grind of metal on metal and I hoisted myself through, sliding the grate into place behind me a second later.
When I was fully hidden inside the vent, I thought of the path that I’d crawled alongside Kupier and then I reversed the map in my head. We’d gone from my bunk to the landing pad, and now I was going from point B to point A. I crawled through the darkened metal vents as quietly as possible and, when I was hidden in the vents above my bunk room, I leaned my back against the metal and brought my legs up. I hadn’t wanted to head straight to my bunk and risk Dahn following me back to talk about what we’d learned, but I also wanted some privacy right now. There was time enough to drop back into my bunk, which would be safer than trying to exit back into the maintenance area.
I was confident that I wasn’t going to get caught in the act of
reading the comm up here. I might get caught exiting the vent into my room, if anything, but hey, that was life. Everybody had to die sometime.
I restrained a cough of a dark little laugh. Apparently, my adventures over the last few months had turned me into quite the nihilist.
I let out a long, low breath and slid my fingernails under the wafer-thin card of glass. It was invisible when it lay along the tech on my arm, but the second I pulled it off, iridescent letters glowed along the downward side. I gripped the comm almost too hard as my stomach tightened and flew into my throat at the same moment.
DP-1, are you alright? Are you safe? I haven’t heard anything to say that you aren’t and I think I would have heard if something happened to the chosen one/her royal highness. But, please, just tell me you’re alright.
My eyes pinched as a gust of breath came out of me. I wasn’t sure if I was laughing or crying. What was it about Kupier that just wrung me out like a sponge? It was like he was determined to mine emotions out of me that I hadn’t even been aware I had. The image of his face ran through my mind. Plain, slightly big nose, Ferryman buzz-cut, ice blue eyes, and a smile for days. A smile for weeks. For months. For years.
I blinked the blur out of my eyes. I couldn’t go getting all mushy just because I was desperately lonely and needed a freaking friend. Even if I knew, without question, that Kupier had been here with me, he’d have known what to do next. He’d have an arm around my shoulders and be making some stupid joke. He’d probably have kissed me and turned my brains into scrambled eggs again.
But I wouldn’t mind that. Actually, I’d relish the chance to turn my brain quiet for a minute.
I let out another long breath and typed out a response. My thumbs didn’t shake. Because I might be lonely as hell, completely confused about almost every aspect of my life, and out of my mind with worry for my sisters, but I was still Glade Io: badass Datapoint.
I’m safe. On the Station. I almost couldn’t contain my laughter at that horror show of a joke. Safe on the Station? What an oxymoron. What happened when you tried to get to Io for my mother and sisters? Why didn’t you respond to any of my messages?
I leaned my head back on the cool metal of the vent and relished the quiet all around me as I waited for his response. How screwed up was my life if hiding in a ventilation shaft was as close to a vacation as I might ever get?
We were ambushed. The second we were within sight of Io, we realized how many Authority skips were orbiting. We tried to land anyway because we were driving a commandeered Authority skip (yeah, I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve) but they must have seen through us because, halfway into atmosphere entry, they sent out a pulse that deadened all of our on-board electronics. Didn’t know the Authority could do that, to be honest. We couldn’t drive, couldn’t communicate, couldn’t do anything but float in orbit for three days after that while we watched as Authority police came around to each skip. I don’t know if they knew we were coming or if they were checking for something else. But either way, we jimmied the engines and got out of there by the skin of our teeth right before they boarded our skip. We hauled ass back to the Ray, but it took us twice as long with all of our navigation and comm systems blown. I messaged you the first chance I got.
My brow furrowed as I read his message. There was so much confusion swirling through me. Honestly, I didn’t know if this information from Kupier cleared things up or muddied them even further. As I stared at the words, though, another message from him popped up.
Glade, I just got word about your mother. I’m so sorry.
My first thought was that he’d heard my mother was dead. But then I thought of my mother messaging me through my hidden comm.
What exactly did you hear about my mother?
He messaged back almost instantly, which soothed me some—it made it seem like he wasn’t gathering an answer, or figuring out the perfect way to reply.
I heard that she was killed.
I bit my lips. If Kupier had been there with me, I might have spilled the whole story. Told him everything. Watched the emotions race across his face like shooting stars across the night sky. After living with Datapoints for so long, it had been extremely strange for me to meet the Ferrymen, to see how their happiness and confusion and excitement and nervousness ran rampant across their expressions at the drop of a hat. But especially with Kupier. The man had so many emotions. And he didn’t bother hiding a single one of them. But right now, he was just words on a screen, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out his intonation.
I typed out the only thing I could think of.
Killed by who?
His answer was immediate. Oh, Jesus. Did you not know? Did I just break the news to you over comm? Oh, God. Glade. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I’m an asshole. A bastard. I’ll never—
I cut him off in the middle of his message.
I already knew. But I’m not sure who killed her. Do you know who?
His message came back again almost immediately, and again the speed soothed me. I couldn’t exactly pin down what his emotions were, but I knew he wasn’t calculating. He was responding with the first things that came into his head. And that was the Kupier I knew. That was the Kupier I trusted. The one with nothing to hide.
I don’t know for a fact, but considering it was an assassination, I’m assuming it was the Authority.
Haven told me it was the Ferrymen.
No surprise there. Do you think he really believes that? Do you believe that?
No. I don’t, either, and I think he knows exactly who killed my mother. I think he was the one who gave the orders. And I think he did it to eliminate one more obstacle between him and my sisters. And if it hurt me in the process, then all the better. He wants me as docile and as close to dead as possible without my actually being dead. If he could remove my heart and insert a hard drive, he’d do it.
Every human has a mother. And he wants to make you even less human. What a sick psycho piece of shit. I swear if I ever meet him…
If you ever meet him…? What?
I couldn’t think of a bad enough threat. But it’ll be REALLY BAD, whatever I do. I swear.
I hadn’t thought I was capable of smiling at a time like this. But suddenly I was smiling at my comm. Because Kupier was such a lovable dumbass. Leader of the Ferrymen, and he couldn’t even think of an appropriate threat.
I pressed the edge of the comm into my brow for a second, gathering my thoughts. It felt so good to be talking to Kupier. But I was also hiding out in a ventilation shaft in the middle of hostile territory.
I don’t know if my mother is dead.
What do you mean?
I mean that after I left Io, I got a message from someone who referred to me the same way that my mother used to.
I hate to say this, DP-1, but that could have been anybody. I don’t know exactly why someone might have done that, but…
I know. It’s just that my sisters said that they saw her body get taken away. I hesitated before saying more, not sure exactly how much to say here. And not in the usual Ionian way of body disposal.
In what way?
And my neighbor said this thing that I think is ridiculous, but I can’t get it out of my head.
Glade, tell me what you’re thinking. Just say it.
Kup. Was my mother a Ferryman?
I thanked God that he didn’t pause before answering. His words appeared on my screen as fast as he could type them.
No. Of course not. I would have told you! I’d never keep something that big from you.
I paused. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or devastated.
Kupier typed again. Why are you asking me that? Did Haven tell you that?
No. My neighbor said that my mother knew your brother. And my sisters said that after my mother fell in the street, people with shaved heads came and loaded her into a small skip and took off. They took her body.
Oh my God. What a mindf*ck.
I laughed despite myself.
>
You’re telling me.
The message that you received, the one that you wondered if it was from your mom. Was it on the comm that I gave you?
Yeah.
There was a long pause now. And as the seconds ticked by, I got more and more unsettled. Finally, he responded. I’m the only one who has access to your comm. Or, so I thought. I’m not sure what exactly is going on, DP-1. But I’m worried that if they accessed you that way, then the line between us isn’t secure.
Panic had a bright, tender noise tearing out of my throat. I clapped a hand over my mouth. But it wasn’t panic at the thought of being eavesdropped on.
No, it was panic at the thought of losing all lines of communication with Kupier.
You’re saying that we shouldn’t use this comm anymore.
I’m saying that we don’t know who might be listening.
The Authority?
Hell no. They don’t have the tech to hack into our systems. Hell, they don’t even know our systems EXIST. No. This has to be someone from my end.
The brown and gray of the Station bore down on me. As a citizen of the solar system and a resident of a space station floating in the asteroid belt, I was used to feeling like an insignificant speck. I was used to the strange reverse-claustrophobia that came from feeling like at any moment you could be flung out into the never-ending universe. But this was different. This was pure confinement. The Station was my cell. And the potential of contacting Kupier through my comm? That had been my only window to the outside. Now, I was closing the blinds on that window. My world seemed even darker than before.
I don’t know if I can do this.
Who typed that? Was that me? I stared at the words like they were unexpected jewelry pulled out of my pocket. My thumbs continued to type.
I have no one. No plan. They’re going to make me cull. It’s coming. I have everything to lose, and all I can do is wait here. Alone.