Paradise 21

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Paradise 21 Page 24

by Aubrie Dionne


  Reckon gave her a sidelong glance and then flicked his eyes back to the eggs. “Too busy flying his ship, huh?”

  Even though Striker had been cold to her the last few days, she still found a need to protect him from criticism. “He mourns for those that were lost. It was all for me to be free.”

  “Hey now, missy.” Reckon’s voice grew authoritative. “No one should be forced to carry out someone else’s dream. Those colonists have it all wrong. Striker couldn’t bear the thought of them forcing you to live out your life in a prison. You have too much of a free spirit in your heart. That’s why he likes you so much.” Reckon put a hand on her shoulder. “Striker’s a good man. A lot has happened to him in the last few days. Don’t worry. He’ll come around.”

  Reckon reminded her of her grandfather. He had the same wrinkles around his eyes and bushy brows. “Thanks, Reckon.”

  “No problem.”

  The intercom clicked on and Striker’s voice echoed in the hatchery. “All hands on deck. We’re coming up on Outpost Omega.”

  Aries followed Reckon up to the main deck, leaping two steps at a time. Anxiety and excitement simmered in her veins. She’d read so much about the space station in the yellowed pages of her history books, without any hope that she’d ever see it with her own eyes. The physics of the wormhole made it possible for her to span the journey of three lifetimes on the New Dawn.

  The scene before her looked just like the textbook’s pictures. A ring of pillars with a shining flame of light at its core connected bubbles of millions of tiny lights. Eight cities, each one as large as the New Dawn, twinkled in space. It had been built as a communications station for all of the colony ships, a way for them to stay in contact as they fled Earth with the last hope of the human race.

  “It’s breathtaking.” Aries walked up to the main sight panel as Striker maneuvered the ship to a loading dock on the far side of the closest bubble city.

  “And dangerous.” Striker warned her with a flash of his eyes. “We’re all going to stay together, right?”

  “Yes, sir.” Reckon gave him a salute.

  “You still got the map?”

  Reckon pulled out his backpack and rummaged through it. He pulled out a square metal object that reminded Aries of a Rubik’s Cube. “Got it right here.”

  “What about you, Aries?” Aries thought Striker’s voice had a more tender ring to it when he spoke to her than when he spoke to Reckon, but maybe that was just her own wishful thinking. He’d said he couldn’t love again, yet so many of his actions told her otherwise.

  “I’m fine. I’ll stick by you and Reckon.”

  “Good.”

  The ship hovered over a peninsula jutting out into space. Closer up, Aries could see grooves in the metal, where ships had taken off and landed for centuries. The paint had worn away, and the plates protecting the loading dock were warped at the corners. Pockmarks and holes where small meteors had pierced the metal made the runway look like Swiss cheese. Crude patches of scrap metal were bolted to the façade like roofs of a shantytown. It had been beautiful from a distance, but up close, the space station was literally falling apart.

  “Can you activate the door code? Omega’s never seen a ship like this before.” Reckon secured his pack to his back and adjusted the straps.

  “I think so.” Striker’s fingers flicked over the panels and the blue light pulsed at his fingertips. “I need to find a way to match the frequency with this alien ship.”

  Striker’s hands were strong and tan. Aires wanted to reach out and hold them. Now was not the time. She still didn’t know how he’d react. After the deaths of his crew, every instinct she had felt inappropriate.

  “Got it.”

  The door opened and he maneuvered the ship into a loading dock. Giant clasps rose up from the floor and secured the wings in place. The door closed behind them and they waited as the chamber pressurized and filled with breathable air.

  Striker turned to Aries and smiled. For the first time since the rescue mission, she saw a hint of the man she’d met in the desert. “Welcome to my home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Propositions

  Tiff’s bandages covering her back itched so much she wanted to rip them off. She feared what lay underneath. Had her skin really been regenerated? Would it look the same? She tugged on the bandage close to her neck to have a peek. The door dematerialized and she whipped her hand back, hiding it under the covers. Dr. Pern would have a fit if she caught her tampering with her work.

  It wasn’t Dr. Pern coming to check in on her. Loot stood in the doorway with a goofy smile on his face and warmth in his eyes.

  “Tiff!” He ran to the side of her bed and put his arms around her, his head resting on her chest. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

  “They wouldn’t let me see you until you were better. They said you were unconscious for three days.”

  “Three days?” Had it really been that long? Ever since that strange dream, she’d felt out of touch with reality. Seeing Loot grounded her. She smoothed over his hair, trying to control the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Dr. Pern told me you stayed behind even after the others left me for dead.”

  Loot nodded. “I couldn’t leave you.”

  The others could. She thought back to the battle scene. Striker must have thought she was dead to leave her. Indeed, she had been dead. Dr. Pern had brought her back. Apparently, even with her lying dead, saving Aries had remained Striker’s priority. She pushed the thought away because it hurt too much. “Are the colonists treating you all right?”

  Loot’s eyes brightened. “Oh yeah. They bring me real food, like tomatoes and bananas, and what do they call it? Those little red bubble things? Oh yeah, grapes.”

  “They haven’t charged you with any crimes?”

  Loot shook his head. “Nope. Guess they think I’m just a boy. Not able to make decisions for myself.”

  Tiff exhaled in relief. “Where are you staying?”

  “Right beside your room.”

  “Is it nice?”

  “Compared to Outpost Omega?” Loot ogled the room. “Duh! Yeah.”

  “Good.” At least these space colonists took care of him. Tiff relaxed some, allowing her body to rest. Her muscles ached, and she hadn’t yet gotten up to walk around.

  “Hey, I know you’re recovering and all, but you have to get out there, Tiff. They have everything anyone could ever want. Workout rooms, entertainment decks, even animals like goats and pigs. I don’t know why that woman left it behind.”

  “From what Reckon heard from Striker, she didn’t like who they told her to marry.”

  Loot shrugged. “Small price to pay if you ask me. I’d marry the ugliest old snaggle-toothed hag just to live here.”

  “Loot!” Tiff sounded angry, but she laughed. He laughed, too, and they sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Tiff wondered if they really were dead and in some kind of heaven together. The throbbing in her back told her otherwise. No, this was real and she and Loot were together, happy and safe. She wanted the moment to last forever.

  “There’s a real nice man that’s been showing me around. He says he wants to talk to you. He’s waiting outside. Will you see him?”

  “Who is he?”

  Loot shrugged, “Don’t know. Someone high up in the command. He’s got a wire coming out of his neck, which weirded me out at first, but he’s been real nice, telling me about the history of the New Dawn, asking me questions about where I came from.”

  A nervous thread pulled at Tiff’s psychic senses, but she pushed it away. If this man were kind to Loot, then she owed it to him to meet him. “All right. Send him in.”

  “The doctor lady says you’ll be healthy enough to walk in a week or so, then I’ll show you around, ’kay?”

  “Okay.”

  She let Loot go after one more hug. He walked into the corridor. An older man in a uniform paused in the doo
rway. “May I come in?”

  “Yes.” Tiff tried to sit up without pulling too hard on all of the tubes in her arm. She had no idea how to treat this man, a colonist, one of the people who supposedly attacked the lizard men, killing them all. He seemed civil enough and even a bit nervous.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Astor Barliss, and I’m the next commander of the New Dawn.”

  Tiff’s stomach sank. The next commander? Here, to meet her? Boy, she must be in deep trouble. He extended his hand and she gripped it with a firm shake. “I’m Tiff.”

  “As Loot has told me, yes.”

  “Thank you for being kind to him. After all we’ve done, I don’t understand why your people are helping us.”

  He nodded, adjusting the wire behind his neck before speaking. “Our goal here on the New Dawn is to preserve human DNA until we reach Paradise 21, where mankind can once more flourish. We’ve lost two able-bodied women this year, before their genetic codes were passed on. One died during an attempted escape, and your friends stole one of our colonists.”

  “They’re not my friends.” Tiff crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, hoping to appear tough, so he wouldn’t see the hurt underneath. “They left Loot and me here to die.”

  “I know.” He patted her hand with long, strong-looking fingers. His eyes grew foggy. “I know what it’s like to be left behind. Anger turns to resentment, and then the sadness weighs in.” He paused, then focused back on her. “That’s why I have a proposition to present.”

  Tiff opened her mouth to decline, but he waved her back. “Hear me out first.”

  He sat on a stool by her bed, his shoulders slumping as if a million regrets chained him to the floor. Although he was a commander, to Tiff he looked like a broken man who’d gone to hell and back again.

  Oddly enough, she felt drawn to him. With his perfect hair, straight edged jaw, and wide chest, he reminded her of the husband in the old 1950s movies, the one that came home in a suit and tie, tired every night after work. She found the resemblance oddly comforting.

  “I’ve made many mistakes as a lieutenant, and I don’t wish to make them again as a commander. I know what’s it like to force people, and I know the consequences of those actions. So, I’m not going to force you to do anything. I’m only presenting an opportunity, should you want it.”

  Tiff leaned forward. He had her interest piqued. “Everyone should get a second chance.” In her case, a third or fourth, but she didn’t want to mention that. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “A month from now, the New Dawn will pass by another planet like Sahara 354: Sahara 413. I can set you up with an escape pod, and you and the boy can make your way to a new world.”

  He locked eyes with her, his eyebrows raised. “You have another choice as well. You can stay with us here on the New Dawn and replace the two colonists we’ve lost. We’ve tested both you and the boy and found unique strands of genetic code separating you from anyone here onboard. You have recessive traits long lost to us in our gene pool, and we’d value your contribution to our mission. You’d have all of the necessities of life, along with some luxuries as well. We’d take care of you and Loot into your old age. The New Dawn would be your home. We only ask that you and Loot each be assigned an appropriate mate to further the genes of our race.”

  His offer whirled around in her head and Tiff clutched the sides of the bed to steady herself. She already knew Loot’s answer, and she’d long known what she wanted as well: a safe home, a father for Loot, and a life free of suffering. One question remained. “Who would my mate be?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  Barliss reached into his back pocket and pulled out a diamond ring.

  …

  The inside of Space Central stank like a toilet that couldn’t be flushed. Aries gagged and coughed, covering her nose with her sleeve. The smell only grew stronger as they walked through the corridor that connected the loading dock to one of the main bubble cities.

  Striker gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I forgot about the stench. I should have warned you.”

  “That’s okay,” her voice was strained as she struggled to breathe through the fabric. She was aware of the lasers she carried, one on each side, for protection. “I just can’t believe people live like this.”

  Reckon snickered. “Darlin’, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just try not to look like a newbie, okay?”

  People lay in heaps on the walkway, covered by scraps of clothing and tattered plastic wrap. They stared at Aries with dark, hungry eyes and she stared back, her mouth hanging open.

  “Don’t look at them.” Striker guided her away by the arm and whispered into her ear. “It only encourages them to beg.”

  “What do they beg for?”

  “Food, water, anything they can eat.”

  “My goodness. Everyone had an equal share on the New Dawn and we grew enough food to feed us all. In fact, most of the colonists packed on the pounds. The problem was too much food, not too little.”

  Striker laughed. “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  Aries had no idea what that meant, but she looked forward to learning everything Striker knew.

  They rounded a bend where a gang of young teens lurked in the shadows. The boldest one, a boy with a filigree of tattoos on his face, kicked a light ball with the spikes on the toes of his boots. His hood, designed like a cobra’s head, glittered in an oily sheen as he stepped forward. He gave their lasers one look and backed away. As he turned, Aries caught a glimpse of his eyes, cold and wild like a lion waiting to pounce.

  “Don’t worry.” Striker squeezed Aries’ arm. He must have felt her tensing up. “No one’s going to bother us. Not while you’re with me.”

  The city sprawled before them, a shantytown of metal buildings and walkways, suspended in space with bubble glass and stars on all sides. It reminded Aries of the snow globe she’d had in her room on the New Dawn. Passed down through generations of her family, her mother had told her it was where her ancestors came from, a city on old Earth once called New York. She would imagine casting herself inside it, living in a time long past. Little white sparkles of fake snow had danced around the tall buildings when she shook it.

  The only sparkles in this city lay outside the glass walls. The stars created a glimmering backdrop, but were also a sobering reminder of the nothingness surrounding them on all sides. Dim lamps lit the walkways like tiny fireflies in an ocean of black.

  Aries felt a chill run down her body and hugged her arms to her chest. “It’s so dark, so cold.”

  Striker put an arm around her. “In Outpost Omega, there’s no day, only night.”

  Vendors clogged the main streets, selling what Aries could only see as trash. The first stall she passed had broken eyeglasses, each pair more shattered and bent than the last. The next stall, run by an elderly woman with a scar the size of a kitchen knife down her face, displayed dolls’ heads with no bodies. Some of the porcelain faces were scratched where the eyes had been plucked out. On the other side of the street, a young man sold bins of nails and screws of all sizes. He leered at her with rotten, blackened teeth.

  “Does anyone here produce new goods?” Aries asked Striker in a whisper, careful not to offend any of the merchants.

  “We ran out of resources decades ago. Now we recycle anything and everything we can find.”

  They turned down an alley and entered a building through the back door, climbing up a series of rusted metal stairways until they reached the floor Striker wanted. His pace quickened as he neared the end of the hallway. He buzzed the door button as soon as he reached it.

  He spoke into the intercom. “Dad, it’s me, Striker.”

  Silence. Aries heard a shout from outside. Someone didn’t like the price they offered for a merchant’s goods. Striker didn’t seem to notice. His face fell with worry. “I hope I didn’t come too late.”

  Ignoring the commotion outside, Aries put a hand on Striker’s shou
lder, “Wait. Give it time.”

  Moments later, the door dematerialized and an old man stepped out. He had sharp, bright, emerald eyes like his son, a distinguished streak of gray on either side of his temples, and a curved nose like an eagle’s beak. In every way he resembled a retired ship commander, toughened by life and time.

  “Son.”

  Aries watched as Striker’s dad embraced him, touched by their obvious happiness. How long ago had Striker said his crew marooned him? Five years. That was a long time to be missing. Of course, she would never see her own parents again. At least she knew they’d wanted her to be happy.

  “Reckon did his job, Dad.” Striker let go of his father and turned to pull the old man forward.

  Reckon waved the accolades away. “Nah. I did nothing special.”

  Striker’s father extended his hand. “I am forever grateful to you. I’ll keep my promise. You have a ticket to Refuge.”

  Striker’s father turned to Aries. “Who, may I ask, is this?”

  Striker put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders gently. “This is Aries. She helped me find a way off Sahara 354.” He looked down at her with such intensity, she felt her cheeks grow hot even in the chill of Outpost Omega. “She saved my life.”

  “Aries, nice to meet you.” His father wrapped his arms around her and hugged her like she was his own daughter. He looked at her and Reckon. “Thank you both for reuniting me with my son.”

  Aries smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  “They know me around here as Decoder, but you can call me James. Come in, come in.” He gestured for them to follow him into the small room. A single window looking out to space hung over stacked containers of reprocessed food. A metal table had all sorts of puzzles with codes, little cubes resembling Striker’s map. A single picture hung on the metal wall, illuminated by the only lamp. His father was depicted in it, years younger, with a woman that had a thin nose and flowing auburn hair.

  James noticed her studying the picture. “That is Lisa Galen the third, my wife.”

 

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