Beyond Our Stars

by Marie Langager

  “But instead they’re using it,” Chance finished.

  Boston nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Do you know what Morgan’s plan is?” I asked.

  He shrugged, meeting my eyes. “No. But whatever it is, I don’t think it’ll end well.”

  We were all quiet.

  “You worried about your dad finding out what you’re doing?” I asked.

  Boston looked back at the fire. “I do what I think is right. It’s not for anyone. It’s for me.” He turned away from us and started putting kindling on the fire to get it going stronger. I knew he was done talking.

  Chance didn’t want to share much. His parents had died, he and his sister had made it out. That was it.

  “Grim?” I asked softly. I wasn’t even sure I should’ve let him come out this late, but I didn’t want him to feel like he was different. He seemed like a baby compared to the rest of us though.

  Grim turned his face to the side in hesitation and then tossed a piece of paper out onto the blanket in front of him.

  It was also a drawing. It was Earth, but the land was burning and pieces of the continents were missing like they’d slid into the sea. The ocean was tinged a dark gray and the glowing orange and red of the land, like lava, portrayed an idea of what had happened to the world we left behind.

  “You made this?” I asked him. He nodded without looking at me. Weeks stopped what he was doing and grabbed the paper from me. It was a good idea, but crude compared to what Weeks was creating.

  “Excellent,” Weeks said, nodding at the picture. He stood up and climbed our tree. He jumped back down with a thud, holding the big folded sheet we left up there.

  “Help me spread it out,” he said, throwing the sheet to catch the air. We grabbed rocks to weigh it down securely.

  Then Weeks sat down and pulled out his paints and brushes. He began to work, glancing at Grim’s drawing. Grim peeked up at me, a bashful grin on his face.

  “Do you want to tell your story?” I asked him. I had heard it before, but thought I thought he might want to tell the others. His story was a lot like theirs. I guess that’s why we’d never done this before, shared the details. Because we all had a story and it was a painful one. Even if you had your parents, your friends, relatives, siblings, and the rest of your life were still gone.

  Grim shook his head no. I moved on to Cairo. I was interested in what he’d have to say, it still made no sense to me that he was aboard the Reflection even though I knew he’d spoken next to no English or Spanish at the time, and there were other vessels with common ship languages he had known that had taken off from our campsite.

  “My father was on another ship,” he said simply. He had a dad?

  “Why aren’t you with your father now?” I asked, sympathy filling me as I pictured him torn from his father’s arms.

  “Chose Reflection,” he answered. He looked into the fire, hissing and crackling at our feet.

  “With no one you knew on board?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “I knew Marseille,” he said, “from the camps.”

  He’d met Marseille in the camps? So he abandoned his father and everything familiar to him, and purposely chose to board the Reflection for five years?

  We all exchanged looks. “Marseille said she would teach me English and French,” Cairo said.

  I was surprised, but I had a better understanding now. It looked to me like a thirteen-year-old Cairo had fallen in love with a little girl named Marseille, and left his life to follow her. And yet in all this time they still weren’t together.

  “But where’s your Dad?” I had never even heard Cairo mention this.

  “He boarded Hindsight.”

  Hindsight was one of the ships that had gone missing.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Cairo gave a head tilt. The Specs lowered their heads for a moment in silent commiseration.

  I looked over at Marseille. She held my gaze. I suddenly felt like I knew what conversation I needed to have with her. She had guts, she could fend for herself. But she needed some courage when it came to boys. Cairo in particular.

  “What do you have?” asked Grim, pointing at the brown leather journal in my hand.

  I’d flipped through it before over the years aboard Reflection. It seemed like someone else wrote it. It was full of my day to day before all I knew was survival. Occasionally I mentioned being afraid, a feeling that something was wrong that my parents and everyone else’s parents were concerned about. But I’d been so young when I was writing, I sounded ridiculous to my grown up self.

  I flipped to the back, the last entry. “My Mom says that we won’t really leave. But they’re building those ships anyway. I think that could be cool to go into space. My parents seem afraid of it but I’m not. As long as most of my friends from my school get to go on the same ship.”

  I closed it. I’d known nothing then. Maybe I knew nothing now.

  We heard footsteps and we all quieted. I looked at the sheet Weeks was painting. It didn’t look like anything yet. After a minute a blonde kid our age whose name I couldn’t recall walked up to us.

  “What is it?” Boston asked.

  “Your dad’s looking for you man. Seems pissed,” said the kid, swinging his long shaggy hair to the side.

  “Damn it,” Boston grumbled. “I should go.”

  He gathered up the blanket he’d brought and trudged back toward the ships. That was the thing about being an orphan, you forgot what it was like to have someone looking for you.

  We talked more as Weeks painted, marveling at his speed. He had a true gift. Late into the night we began cracking jokes and sharing funny stories, then slowly, as dawn crept closer, we each fell asleep.

  I awoke to the sound of Weeks snoring loudly. I opened my still tired eyes and rolled over. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, the light still dimmed and hazy. Chance’s heavy arm was draped over me. I scanned our little campsite. Small scraps of fruit peel and the empty open cans were littering the ground. Dry grass stuck to all the blankets. Weeks had one arm out of his blanket and he was covered up to his elbows in splotches of different colored paint.

  And off to the side, weighted by rocks, there were the drawings he had created. I sucked in a breath and pushed myself up to look.

  They were fantastic. Some of them were so realistic it was like looking at a photo. Others were drawn in vivid colors with images that felt alive and powerful. One especially, was captivating. It was the largest painting on the sheet. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  Weeks had made two images on the fabric. One was a picture of Earth before, green and blue with swirls of white. The second, of course, was the after. It was like Grim’s drawing with the burning misshapen pieces of land, the grayish, blackened water. But Weeks had also added bits of texture, dirt, judging by the little holes dug up near where he slept, to give the painting life. The sheet depicted the charred ground so that it looked like it rose into rocky mountains and then fell into valleys, clumpy with paint and dirt. The ocean looked filthy, with bits of this and that, small pebbles under the surface of the paint. He’d used bits of grass painted red and orange to look like lava flow and raging fires. The ocean appeared to be raging against the coast, just as it had been in real life.

  It was brilliant. A masterful image that had me choked up, unable to believe Weeks had made something this amazing. I’d had all the faith in the world but I couldn’t have imagined this was possible unless I’d seen it.

  “You like it?” I hadn’t noticed he’d opened his eyes and rolled from his sleeping position on the ground. He had an arm propping him up as he lay under his blanket, looking at me with uncertain eyes.

  “It’s incredible,” I said.

  Weeks scrunched up his mouth. “Good.”

  I could only hope that this would be of some use. It seemed like a smart plan at first, but in the dewy morning air I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  The others started to stir.

  I went back to sit
next to Chance. The others were starting to stir, smiling as they slowly woke up. It might be nice to extend our stay at our little campground away from everyone else for a while.

  But in that moment I heard a crunching sound and turned to see Boston headed toward us, running full speed.

  “Hey, got news,” he said breathlessly, as he reached us. He looked from side to side.

  I stood up. “Yeah?”

  He nodded, pounding his chest and trying to regain his control over his breathing. “Yeah. Morgan’s holding a meeting, organized last night. That’s why my dad needed me back, I’ve been sneaking around all night helping deliver the message. My dad made me swear not to tell you.”

  “When’s the meeting?” I asked. Faith and Gaia started gathering up all the blankets. Grim was carefully rolling up the drawings with Weeks.

  “Now. I couldn’t get away sooner I’m sorry.” I looked into Boston’s light brown eyes and knew he was telling me the truth. He might even get into really big trouble.

  I motioned to Faith and Gaia. “No time, we’ll clean up later.” We left everything in the grass and took off, following Boston.

  “Okay, so you go to the meeting, we’re going to work our way through the shafts and find a place to spy if we can,” I said to Boston, heading toward the Talisman.

  “Where’re you going?” He pulled on my arm, leading me another way.

  “What do you mean? Where’s the meeting?” I asked.

  “Tanks of the Reflection,” he answered.

  “On Chief’s ship? They’re having a meeting on Chief’s ship?” I whispered angrily.

  “Yeah. I know,” Boston answered.

  We neared the Reflection. We’d have to break away from each other so we weren’t seen talking together right before the meeting. But as we came close I saw something that made me pull everyone back behind some storage crates lying in the grass.

  “What?” Chance whispered, trying to get a look.

  “Look at those men. Look at how they’re walking around those doors. There are guards,” I said. The men were trying to appear casual, but the way their eyes scanned the crowd told me otherwise.

  “I can’t believe the confidence of this guy,” Weeks said. I was sure that’s why Morgan was having his meeting here. He was blatantly mocking the Chief.

  I looked at Boston. “I guess you’re our only hope. Get in there and listen up good,” I said. “And be careful.”

  Boston squared his shoulders and came out from behind the crates as nonchalantly as he could. I watched his hooded head walk up to the men. He talked to them, starting to move to the door, but one of them put a hand on his shoulder. They exchanged words.

  I could only see Boston’s back, but he started pointing at the door. He was mad. The guard kept his cool but he shoved Boston’s shoulder back.

  Boston said something else and then walked back toward us quickly. He turned another way, then when someone else walked up to the doors and the men were distracted, he ran over to us behind the crates.

  “No go,” he said. “They say Morgan himself told them not to let me in. Apparently I could be conspiring with the enemy.” He gave me a pointed look.

  “Did they actually use the word enemy?” I asked, taken aback.

  “Yeah, they did.”

  This was getting out of hand.

  “I can get us in,” Faith said behind me.

  “How?” I asked, inching closer to her.

  “I’ll have to show you.” She gave a disappointed look to Chance.

  “What?” he asked.

  She shook her head glumly. “I was hoping for a rematch some day before I gave away my secret, but I suppose it’s for the greater good.”

  Oh, so she was going to show us her disappearing trick from the slamming final.

  “Go,” I told her.

  We followed as she began snaking her way around the Reflection towards the back of the ship. There were no guards back there but they would be inside, I was sure, and probably some stationed at well-known shafts and vents that the slammers used.

  Faith held up a finger signaling us to wait a moment. There were bay doors open on the second level. She scaled the side of the ship, her fingers digging in to crevices for support. She waved her hand for us to follow. One by one we followed her until we were all inside the large storage bay.

  “Faith! How are we going to…”

  “Shh!” Faith cut me off and continued to creep across the bay.

  The rest of us stayed where we were as Faith scaled some crates to reach the ladder in the shaft on the opposite side of the bay.

  “We can’t use the shafts they’ll be waiting…” Chance was saying to me.

  Faith disappeared.

  “Holy hell!” Weeks whisper-yelled, and we all ran toward the shaft.

  I climbed inside.

  She was nowhere. She’d vanished, like a magic trick.

  I heard a knock, from somewhere behind the shaft, and then again.

  “Faith?” I called.

  A small compartment opened up and I looked at Faith’s smiling face, peeking at me from inside the wall of the ship.

  “Where are you?” I peered inside.

  “I’m in the mistakes,” she answered gleefully.

  “The what?” everyone asked, craning to see.

  “Spaces that the engineers back on Earth, whoever built these ships, left by accident. No one knows about them because they’re empty spaces not good for anything, and they’re a tight fit. It won’t look like you can get through them but you can. The boys might have to stay, except maybe Cairo and Grim.”

  I gawked at her. There was another way through the ship? “Are you sure we can get through?” It didn’t look like much space. I could hardly believe it went anywhere.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Only it doesn’t cover everything. I had to use a few shafts when I was slamming, and we might have to risk it again. But I think I can mostly get us through.”

  “We can’t go?” Chance asked from behind me.

  “No,” Faith answered. My eyes were still huge from looking at her face behind the wall. “And if you’re claustrophobic you’ll want to sit this out,” she said.

  Cairo was athletic but he wasn’t that much bigger than Faith herself, and certainly slimmer than Boston, Weeks, or Chance. Grim was small, but I’d already decided he wasn’t going.

  “Pilgrim, I’m gonna need you to stay with Chance,” I told him, reaching back and grabbing his hand. He looked relieved and backed away from the shaft.

  Chance put his arm around Grim’s shoulder and sighed. “Hope, I don’t like this.” Well that’s just too bad, I thought.

  But what I said was, “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Faith backed up and I started to squeeze my way into the small opening, barely big enough to fit through.

  “Hope!” I heard Chance call. I took my head back out.

  “I’m serious. Look at me.”

  It’s fine, I told him with my eyes, trying to stifle my impatience.

  “Promise me you’re going to be careful. There could be guns in there, Hope. No risks, you hear me? If you can’t get to the meeting then don’t go. You can’t protect Chief by yourself and you can’t go up against Morgan. Someone else can do it, it doesn’t have to be you.”

  But maybe it does. “I’ll be safe,” I told him. I pushed my way into the hollow space before he could say anything else. I could feel his desperate worry for me and it was starting to make me nervous.

  If I don’t, then who? I didn’t feel like it was fair of him to ask me not to put myself at risk. I’d never be able to help anyone unless I did.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Once I was inside the space I started to wish someone else could do this. I was already regretting being so eager to follow Faith. I’d been able to climb into a small open area between the steel walls of the ship but now Faith started making her way upwards, pressing her back against one side and pushing with her feet and hands to force her body up throu
gh the tight squeeze. She was sliding between two walls that looked like they were going to close in on her.

  I swallowed. I wasn’t claustrophobic but this might be the day to change that. I willed myself not to think about the discomfort or fear. I wouldn’t die, so might as well get it over with.

  I began pushing my way through the narrow space after Faith, who was constantly waiting for me to catch up as I checked below to see if Gaia, Marseille, and Cairo were following.

  Thankfully, after the difficult straight shot upward we crawled onto a horizontal surface. There was still barely any room and I felt like the walls were pressing in on me, but at least we could push our cheeks down and slide along.

  After a while it curved downward into a weird little dip. Faith slid into the dip and then kept going forward. I slid in after she was gone and took in a big breath in the slightly bigger space I could stand up in. But then I looked at where I was supposed to go. It didn’t seem possible.

  “Faith?” I called. I wondered again if she was a magician.

  “Yeah, I know, I know, it looks bad. But you can make it and then it opens up on the other side, no sweat.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “Hey, we’re waiting, so if you’re gonna go, now would be better than later,” Marseille called out from behind Gaia. There was a slightly panicked tone in her voice. The claustrophobia must be getting to her while they were stationary, waiting for me.

  “Here goes,” I muttered.

  It’s too small. It’s too small. I felt the top pressing on my head as I pushed through. I was going to get stuck in this, I felt sure.

  But my head fit through. I could see Faith and she was right, on the other side was a big open space. I started shoving with my feet, wanting the freedom of movement that was inches away from me.

  “Wait, press your shoulders flat,” Faith said. I did it. “Now turn, squeeze you stomach through, okay the hips are hard, you might have some bruises after, but…okay, here, I’ll pull you…” and Faith hooked her hands under my arms and pulled the rest of me out.