“Sure. See you later, Crash.”
Crash saluted, and August and I left the lounge.
“What is it?” I asked as we meandered down the hall. Upcoming shore leave meant that the passages were much busier, full of crewmembers rushing to pack or eat or finish other last-minute tasks.
“Is he coming with us?” August tilted his head back towards the lounge.
“I think so, unless you have a better alternative...”
“No,” he interrupted. “I think it’s a good idea. I know,” he cut me off as I opened my mouth to remind him of Crash’s sins, “but he is a good guide, and he can help us. In his right mind, I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.”
“Yeah. I know.” I sighed.
“Anyway, I still don’t know where we’re going. Nobody seems to know anything about where Dred is or what he’s working on. He just... vanished, about four years ago. It seems like—Ursula went missing about a year later. I found a report her mother filed, but it was buried pretty deep. Like I said, the legal system is pretty corrupt over there.”
“So she was only three,” I said softly. I tried to picture her but didn’t know where to start. August was the spitting image of our father, while I closely resembled the pictures I’d seen of our mother. Who would Ursula take after? Our mutual father, or the mother I’d never met?
As if reading my thoughts, August pulled out a small pad. “There was a picture on the missing person report.” He navigated to the image and showed it to me.
Pictured was a pale, slightly chubby girl with straight, smooth black hair and dark brown eyes. She was wearing a dark blue dress and was smiling, holding a white flower up to the camera.
“She looks like you,” I said after a moment.
He nodded. “Yeah. Except for the nose.”
“Maybe she has her mother’s nose.” For the first time, I felt my heart twinge with longing as the image settled in my mind, something specific to attach to the name I’d heard so recently. “Do you think she’s safe?”
“I don’t know.” He pocketed the pad again. “I hope so.”
The Captain’s voice began to announce over the intercom. “Attention, crew. We are approaching the port and will be ready to send you on your way one hour from now. Please be packed for two weeks of shore leave by that time. Crewmembers who are leaving this job have an extra day to be cleared out of their cabins, and those on active duty will be given an extra hour to prepare to depart. Good luck, everyone!”
August looked at me. “I have to get back to the bridge.”
“And I should pack. I’ll see you when you get off, yes?”
“Okay.” With a smile, he hurried to one of the elevators and I turned to another to start down to C-Deck so I could pack.
There wasn’t all that much to take. I only owned a few changes of clothes other than my uniforms, then there were a few electronic books, my traditional copy of the Bible, and some general hygiene products like my toothbrush. The only things left other than bedding, lamps, and furniture were the bits and pieces of electronics and machinery that were always scattered around my room. There would of course be no use for my tinkering or inventing during my time on Earth, and even if there was, I didn’t feel like toting all the tools and equipment around. It would all be waiting for me when I returned.
The heaviness settled in my stomach again. It was subtle—just a general unease, almost an undefined premonition.
What if I never returned?
I forced a chuckle. This was my home. Within two weeks the repairs would be completed. It was just needless anxiety to assume anything would go wrong.
The slight shift in gravity as we switched off artificial always made me feel unsettled. The difference was inexplicable—after years and years of improvements and technological advancements, the artificial gravity should be exactly like that of Earth. There was no quantifiable difference. But somehow I could always sense when we switched from one to the other. Something inside me just—settled differently.
I slipped my backpack on, put another bag over my shoulder, and darted across the room. Then I stopped in the doorway and turned around, giving the small, sparse room another glance before hurrying away to meet the Doctor.
The hallways that led to the exit ramp on D-Deck were absolutely packed. I exited the elevator only to be greeted by an area as jammed as a calcified artery. Crewmen and crewwomen, some uniformed and some already clothed more casually, some with hefty suitcases and others with a mere shoulder bag, flooded the passage.
I resigned myself to meeting the Doctor and anyone else in the terminal after I left the ship, since there was no way to navigate among the solid mass of humanity that blocked the passage.
It had been at least a year since we’d actually landed the Surveyor—our past several visits to Earth had left the ship in orbit or nearby while we shuttled down in smaller transports. I’d almost forgotten just how insane the mass exodus could be.
It took at least fifteen minutes for me to finally reach the ramp and when I did, I couldn’t help pausing to touch the hull of the ship on my way out. The bright white metal was scratched and dented, but in between the blemishes its original sleek, smooth finish could still be felt. I smiled, then responded to the prodding of those behind me and trotted down the ramp into the sunlight.
It blinded me at first and I had to squint as I followed the crowd twenty meters or so into the enormous, cubic, many-windowed station. Once through the glass doors, my eyes adjusted quickly but the bustle and buzz everywhere overwhelmed me. Yes, I was used to constant busyness on the ship but this—this was different. On the ship I knew almost everyone by sight, and everyone had a set job, a predictable part to play during their duty hours. Here, there was just a giant tangle of people, coming from and going to different places, talking in different languages, carting luggage, calling out to each other, chattering on coms and pads, stopping to purchase things from shops and vendors that lined the sides of the vast hallways—
“Andi!”
The familiar voice shook me out of my chaos-induced hypnosis and pulled me towards the speaker. I found her, waving at me from a bench a few meters away. Olive, the nurse we worked with on the Surveyor. She smiled and patted the seat next to her and I gladly took refuge from the confusion.
“I love shore leave, don’t you?” she said. “Mac and I are going to Hawaii as soon as he briefs the repairmen.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I like the ship better, myself.”
“Better than Hawaii?” Her big, beautiful eyes widened playfully.
“I’ve never been there, silly,” I smiled, giving her a fond eyeroll.
“Well you grew up on the ship, you lucky thing. I’m new to it. And I’m glad to be on solid ground again.”
Before I could reply, Almira sauntered over with a single drawstring bag thrown over her shoulder and smiled at me. I jumped up and ran to hug her, encircling her plump middle as tightly as I could.
“Mr. Guilders told me about the letter,” she said in a tone halfway between whispering and speaking.
I squeezed a little tighter before letting go.
“Are you going to be okay?” she frowned, dark eyes searching mine.
“Crash and August are going to come along. They’ll take good care of me.”
She nodded, but darted a glance at my knee. I smiled a bit.
“I feel fine, Almira.”
She rested a hand on my shoulder. “But what if you get worse while you’re so far away?”
“I won’t,” I said hypocritically, shoving my own worries into the far corners of my mind. “In the past few weeks there’s only been a five percent increase in the organisms. It’s nowhere near enough to cause damage yet.”
She squeezed my shoulder and dropped her hand back to her side.
“What are you doing with your shore leave?” Olive asked, joining the two of us.
I detected a slight change in Almira’s face, as though a curtain h
ad been drawn over her soul to keep something from being revealed. “Oh, the usual. Places to see, people to visit.”
Whether I would have gotten up the nerve to prod for more details I would never know, because the Doctor approached at that moment and laid a hand on my arm. “Crash is ready to take us to the hotel,” he said, voice elevated to speak over the echoing hubbub surrounding us. “August is going to follow us as soon as he’s packed.”
I nodded, then gave Almira and Olive each a quick hug before hurrying after the Doctor.
The walk through the station to the exit seemed much longer than it probably was. The noise and the sheer amount of people in such varying colored clothing dazed me, and I clutched the straps of my backpack tighter as I hurried to keep up with the Doctor’s long strides. To the right, a dark-skinned man in bright yellow with a nametag I couldn’t read called after me to extol the values of the newest e-scents, holding up a chip the size of my fingernail that could be clipped into your hair or onto your collar to release a floral perfume “for up to seventy-two hours without fading.” To the right I caught a glimpse of people reclining in comfortable chairs, laughing at a holographic comedian who was probably doing a live show in New York or Los Angeles.
At last we reached the huge automatic glass doors that would lead us to the outside world. I sucked in the fresh air as we stepped out of the chaos, marveling at the difference between it and recycled life support. I had forgotten how different it smelled—not just the air, the world. The sticky scent of exhaust from cars that whizzed by, distant wafts of spicy hot dogs, and the general stiff, dry suggestion of coming winter.
Crash was waiting for us just outside the building, leaning against a sleek, bright yellow car the exact shade of his prized speeder the Alacrity I. I eyed its smooth lines, shiny finish, and top-of-the-line retracted maglev tires, then looked back at Crash. “I’m guessing it’s yours?”
“She, And, she.” He patted the hood of the car, then straightened up and reached for my luggage, which he stowed securely in the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat. I rested my hand on the passenger seat door and glanced at the Doctor.
“Go ahead,” he grunted, and got into the back of the vehicle. I smiled and slid onto the smooth, synthetic seat next to Crash. It had been a long time since I’d ridden in a car.
The ride was smoother than I remembered. Crash kept the steering on semi-automatic rather than full, giving himself space to practice the reflexes and instincts he was so renowned for as a pilot. I watched out the window as we sped along, taking in the sky, the clouds, the buildings, the people. So many people.
“What’s the agenda, Uncle?” Crash called into the back.
“Unpack, then I need to meet with Trent and Guilders one last time before our official leave begins. Tomorrow I have a meeting with Senator Edmunds, and once that’s over we’ll make plans for y’all to start on this quest of yours.”
Crash nodded, swerving deftly to avoid a van ahead. “Do we need to be at this meeting, or can we start planning while you’re gone?”
“Which meeting?”
“Either.”
“August and I need to be there tonight, and Andi is welcome. I’m sure you’re not.” He paused, but Crash said nothing. “I want Andi to come with me tomorrow morning, but you and August are welcome to continue research.”
I purposefully stayed out of the conversation. I knew that if I interjected myself into the planning I would bring stress upon myself sooner than was needed—stress over Crash, the senator, my sister. There would be plenty of time for stress later. For now, I’d let them work things out while I marveled at just how very blue the sky was.
When we arrived at the hotel, I again was content to let the Doctor and Crash take the lead in unloading the car and checking in. It was an enormous building, at least twenty-five stories that I had counted before we passed inside and I had to give up. It must have been built to take full advantage of being so near the spaceport.
Slinging my backpack over one shoulder, I hurried to keep up with the men. Once I’d realized we’d be staying at a hotel, I had harbored secret hopes that it would be one of the ones I’d read about that were testing android technology as staff.
I wasn’t disappointed. Above the sleek, black desk rose the smooth metallic head and shoulders and iconic bright blue eyes of artificial intelligence. It wasn’t an android per se—it had no skin, only a mechanical exoskeleton, but it could create expressions with its face. I knew this because it smiled at us as we approached.
“How may I help you?” it asked, sounding nearly human.
“What’s your name?” I asked before the Doctor or Crash could speak up. Neither of them seemed as impressed as I was, but the Doctor disliked new technology and Crash had spent a lot more time on Earth than I had and most likely was used to seeing experimental robotics.
“I am John 34. What’s your name?”
“Andi,” the Doctor grunted, elbowing in front of me. “We’re here to check in. Reservations under ‘Lloyd.’”
I watched in fascination as the robot looked up the reservation, sent clearance for the rooms to our pads, and gave us instructions regarding checkout times and housekeeping. A surreptitious peek at the other side of the desk showed me that it didn’t even have legs—it was only a metallic bust bolted to a chair. But it was still one of the best integrations I’d ever seen.
“Have a nice day,” it called after us as we walked to the elevator.
“Soon everyone working in public places will be robots,” I whispered to the Doctor. “We might even have them on starships one day.”
“I certainly hope not. I’ll take my companions human, thank you very much.”
I just shook my head at him while Crash rolled his eyes a little, no doubt at the inexperience my excitement elicited. I didn’t care. It was an exciting new world, and for a moment, just a moment, it had driven all the worries from my mind.
Crash and the Doctor were sharing a room, while August and I each had our own smaller, adjoining rooms. The Doctor led me to mine, then showed me how to use my pad to command the door to unlock.
When the traditional, hinged door swung open, the room within surprised me. It was smaller even than my cabin on the Surveyor, but the sunlight streaming through the windows made it seem bigger. There was soft, striped carpet on the floor, the walls were a cheerful pale yellow, and a floral bedspread covered the oversized bed.
“Do you want to come along to the meeting tonight?” the Doctor asked.
I just looked at him, and he chuckled. “Right. I’ll come get you at eighteen, then. Get some rest, all right?”
“Yes sir. See you later.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
I turned back around to face the cheery room.
The silence sank into my soul.
I couldn’t decide whether I loved it or hated it. There was something both eerie and peaceful about the complete lack of sound. Back on the ship, even though my quarters had soundproof walls, there was always that omnipresent hum of the engines and each system working tirelessly as we hurtled through space. My mind had long since learned to tune it out, but still its absence left me with a sense of unease. And yet—there was a kind of rest in the stillness. It made my head feel fuzzy, the way it did when the Doctor stroked my hair to calm me down.
Tossing my backpack to the ground, I dropped onto the bed face first and closed my eyes to rest. There were still several hours before our goodbye meeting with the rest of the crew. I might as well take advantage of the silence and, as the Doctor said, get some rest before the wheels of the upcoming events and uncertainty began their steady grind forward.
CHAPTER IV
It felt strange to be before the Captain without my uniform on. I always wore it on the ship, even at holiday gatherings when he insisted I didn’t have to. In my red dress and gray leggings I felt almost indecent, and his up and down glance as I entered the spacious, chandelier-lit conference room at the
hotel only intensified the feeling. But he put me more at ease with his smile and his words.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear red. You look nice.”
I thanked him and he tipped his cap to me, then moved on to greet August.
Despite my unusual attire, I felt the tension slip from my body as I observed the rest of the attendees. Guilders. Whales. Yanendale. Ralston. McMillan and Olive. Paine. Orston. Not all friends, but all people I was used to, used to working with and seeing on a daily basis.
Crash, of course, wasn’t there. He wouldn’t have been there in any official capacity anyway since he wasn’t a member of the crew, but he probably would have tagged along anyway if this had happened a few weeks ago. But his recent actions had left him banned from the Surveyor for a time, so his presence would have been inappropriate to say the least.
I pushed these thoughts away and looked for Almira. She was nowhere to be seen.
“Captain?”
He was talking with the Doctor a few feet away and turned to look at me.
“Where’s Almira?”
He shrugged. “She wasn’t required to attend, and said she had somewhere to be. She sends her love, though.”
I nodded, but the twisty feeling in my stomach came back. Since when had Almira ever left for shore leave without prolonged goodbyes for those she was close with?
The Captain interrupted my reverie by clinking a fork against his glass over by the long, black table at the far end of the room. The murmur of voices subsided as everyone made their way to a seat, and I ended up with the Doctor on my right and Guilders on my left.
The clinking stopped as soon as the twenty-two crewmembers had found seats. The Captain glanced at each person in turn.
“Thank you all for coming. I know it’s been a tough few months, and you all deserve these weeks of shore leave. Please, do some relaxing. Have some fun. Whatever you need to get rested up for the next mission. Thank you all for your patience and dependability recently—it will not go unnoticed in my reports to Mr. DeMille. It will be my recommendation that his gratitude be reflected in bonuses for each of you, but you know how he can be.”
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