“Promise me, though,” Adeline said. “Just promise you’ll remember there is nothing to find out there...about you.”
Yalena breathed in deeply. In her mind, she’d ask if Adeline knew anything else, anything at all, which she’d refrained from mentioning.
“Of course, I don’t,” her guardian would say.
Then, there is something to find out there. The sentence stuck in Yalena’s head, but only there. She resolved to never let it travel in the air around her. “I promise.”
Chapter 2. The STARs
TWO PLAIN BLACK SWEATERS. A few T-shirts. A bag of undies. Blue jeans.
Yalena frowned, squinting at the rest of her closet, while the holo-screen played commercials in the background. What was one to pack for outer space? She absently wondered if her welcome committee was supposed to answer such questions. Just imagining calling Chris and Adam about trivialities made her cringe.
“Space is fabulous. You can wear anything.” She imitated Adam’s prolonged pronunciation of the letters “a” and “e.”
It was a frivolous distraction, but in the background her mind was busy with a different round of preparations.
The shuttle launch site was across the globe, which meant that even with her top-notch transporter, she’d take a few hours getting to the US. Those were the few hours she would have to prepare for being shipped off to space and all that went with it. If she’d taken a few high-school electives on top of the compulsory Space Ed class, she wouldn’t be swamped with a looming revision now, but no matter. She had to start somewhere.
“Open notes from Space Ed class, 2207,” Yalena said. Her voice activated the holo screen, interrupting the commercials.
“You have two notes titled Space Ed,” the computer said.
She threw the pair of jeans she was holding into the suitcase and walked over to the screen. Apart from the required readings for the class, in both text and audio format, the Space Ed folder was treacherously empty. She cursed herself for not having been more diligent. A quick scroll through the modest contents of the folder was enough to jog her memory on the topic, but she’d need a much more substantial revision, if she wanted to survive up on a space station for the next year.
“Transfer all audio lectures to my personal device,” she asked her assistant software. “Looks like I won’t be sleeping on the trip over.”
“Right on,” the computer voice said.
“And play the most recent news on the space channel, please,” Yalena said.
The music of the talk show Space Morning blasted in the room. The two hosts were seated at the big, round table, and behind them was a background with a million sparkling stars. Usually, this talk show did nothing but remind Yalena of her unknown past. Today, however, she felt as if the people on the screen were speaking directly to her.
“Good morning, and we have the juiciest news of all!” the host greeted his audience. A round of applause from the on-set visitors broke out. “Yes, you know what I mean, don’t you?” He was cackling in a way Yalena hardly found funny.
“These past forty-eight hours have been a nail-biting moment for all high school graduates who have set their sights on the Space Talent Asset Recruitment, or STAR Academy. As you know, the commander and his team of experts personally decide which students they wish to invite each year. Our inside scoop only got us the statistics, but that could be plenty to go on. Let’s have a look!” The female co-host gesticulated with over-played enthusiasm and pointed to the monitor behind her.
“Holy stars! The class of 2208 has a strong body of Earthlings—twelve out of the twenty students come from different places on Earth!” The man pointed to the pie chart.
“It’s remarkable to see so many Moonies this year, too—a total of three, which is higher than last year. And I am willing to bet my drone that all four of the Martians will be on the top ten pilot list at some point. The summer prep courses up on Mars are sensational!” She put such a strong emphasis on the word “sensational” that Yalena shuddered, feeling the sting of insecurity.
“They sure are! Finally, to complete the class, there is one space station youngster. What are your thoughts on that?”
“This is very curious, indeed. Space stations are still small and a rather inconvenient place for bringing up children. Not many are raised there, but it’s safe to bet that this student knows what he or she is doing, maybe more so than the rest.”
“Speaking of exciting facts,” the other host cut in, showing off a dazzling smile, “our sources tell us that not one, but two of the twenty selected have been very difficult to reach, both digitally and in person. That is what I call mastery!”
Yalena frowned. She never thought of it as impressive because she wasn’t responsible for the secrecy. It had always been a part of her life, and there was an entire police department dedicated to the cybersecurity of secret agents like Adeline and their families. She could hardly take credit.
“It may, in fact, have been a very carefully laid out application strategy,” the host pondered, then turned to look at the camera directly. “As most of you know, STAR Academy is not a college one can apply to. Each student can only do their best and hope to attract the attention of Academy scouts.”
Hearing this made Yalena relax the stiff posture she had adopted subconsciously. Perhaps this wasn’t all that weird, if nobody else could apply, either. She even smiled a little. If that other student had gone off the grid to secure a spot in the class, she’d be curious to meet the genius.
“I smell intense competition here! Let’s remind our viewers that STAR Academy students stand behind a long line of innovative projects, such as the water-landing spacecraft extensions invented ten years ago and the spray-on anti-radiation reconstructive foam from about six years ago.” As the host listed these, projected models of the inventions popped up on the screen.
“And it’s not just the achievements that we’re happy to welcome! I mean, the public knows these faces—from their first day at STAR Academy and throughout their breathtaking careers,” the woman reminded the audience, and applause broke out again.
Yalena’s head buzzed with the ecstatically-presented information, and she zoned out. Deciding to go was stubborn, even brave of her. So what if she would be the worst student among these so-called STARs?
“Since we’re in Boston, may I say again how proud we all are of our hometown favorite, currently ranked as the best pilot at STAR Academy after completing only a single year. Chris Arne!” The man articulated every word with the typical showbiz attitude, and Yalena gasped. Chris? The same Chris who was at her doorstep last night?
“Yes, Chris is one of those talents that hardly swooped out of nowhere, but he did blow people away, despite the high expectations. It’s hard to achieve this position after only a year. Has that happened before?”
“Only a few times, Cooper O’Donnell being one of the recent examples, but the prominent title is usually held by more experienced pilots. I think it’s safe to say he’ll be number one for the remainder of his education,” the host wrapped up with certainty.
“Oh, yes. Definitely something for me to conquer—flying god-forsaken, claustrophobic death capsules,” Yalena said out loud to the empty room. She groaned, trying to ignore the troubling thought. Still, she was unable to chase the last words of the talk show host out of her mind.
“We wish all the new STAR Academy freshmen good luck in this challenging experience. Trust us, you’ll need it!”
Chapter 3. The Launch
THE AUDIO LECTURES had been a good idea. Yalena wasn’t delusional enough to believe that a beginner’s Space Ed curriculum would give her any sort of an edge against the other STAR Academy freshmen, but the calming voice of the narrator comforted her all throughout the trip, the pre-departure security clearance, and the wait in front of the gate. When people started to line up for admission, she had reached the end of “Part I: History of the Quakes”, and she tapped on her earpiece to play the short final su
mmary.
The Quakes were the most dramatic change planet Earth had seen for centuries. Starting in the late 2050s, the first wave shook every major city on Earth, reducing many of them to dust. Safety bunkers were scarce, resulting in strict candidate selection processes before admission. Some investments in quake-resistant materials helped create the first of what we now call ‘ghost cities,’ made of concrete-resembling materials assembled in uniform apartment boxes. They were wide, not tall, and thus, their dull, gray forms spread out for miles.
World-class engineering efforts were focused on reinforcing radioactive plants against leakages. Yet, the Quakes broke many of the globe’s leading air and water filtration systems, letting pollution out into the open with nothing to hamper it. This triggered the second wave. The return of pollution caused a severe rise in sea levels, which Earthlings had been fighting against since the dawn of the 21st century. All their efforts to hamper global warming came crashing down in the third wave, which saw extreme weather envelop the globe—from hurling twisters to disastrous tsunamis and unstoppable rainfall and flooding. Nearly forty turbulent years on Earth convinced almost everyone that the planet had no future.
Thus, began the Migration—humanity’s conscious effort to leave our birthplace in search of a new home. The first stage was the near-space migration to the expanding cities on Mars and the Moon. The bases there are still referred to as ‘The Near Worlds.’ Soon, however, it became clear that humankind had to think bigger. To secure the longevity of our species, we had to venture out and harbor hope that something out there existed—a place more similar to Earth than the gloomy Moon mines or the problematic gravity and atmospheric pressure on Mars. There had to be more.
When she was next in line, Yalena tapped on her earpiece to pause the lecture.
Sunlight broke through the glass walls of the terminal, and Yalena’s eyes scanned the landscape as a distraction. In the distance, thin rockets poked up, like weird, metallic mushrooms reaching for the white skies.
“Could you please flash your ID at the scanner?” The border control official’s voice had a sharp tone as she motioned to the screen.
With a frozen smile, Yalena held up the translucent chip ID for the machine. It shone green. She then looked back to the lady at the desk for guidance. It was a silly feeling, not knowing what came next in such a routine procedure.
The woman stopped tapping her fingernails against the desk and narrowed her eyes in Yalena’s direction.
“It’s actually my first time flying off.”
The official’s expression changed, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets. “You don’t say!” she exclaimed, then mumbled to herself. “Why do they never mention any of this on the news? Who would have thought?”
“Ahem,” Yalena cleared her throat.
“Oh,” the lady came back to the conversation. “Go ahead and follow the sleeve down to the transporter. When the entire group has checked in, they’ll drive you to the launch site.”
“Thanks.” Yalena walked a step closer to the plastic doors, but they hadn’t opened yet.
“It’s just so interesting,” the woman said, drawing Yalena’s attention back to the counter. “You hear stories of those special kids that study so hard and get off-planet placements on Mars and whatnot. I always thought they would be the ones getting accepted.”
Yalena smoothed down her A-line skirt, breaking eye contact. “I thought so, too.”
She could still feel the open stare of the official fixated on her. When she glanced back up, the border control lady blinked a few times, finally realizing she was holding up the line with all these questions.
“Well, congratulations on being accepted.”
Yalena turned away to hide her flustered face and crossed the barrier. The sleeve was empty and looked a lot like the ones used to board air transporters, only instead of linking directly to the shuttle, it lowered until it let her out at ground level. Once outside, Yalena couldn’t see the sun behind those white clouds, but she felt it giving off heat, boiling the greenhouse that was Earth.
She made a few steps toward the shuttle-bound transporter, half-full with her future classmates. The ones that had already taken their seats glanced around, measuring up each new arrival that climbed the ladder to the open vehicle. Some had even pulled out their personal devices to document the experience. They looked like any other group of freshmen, but Yalena couldn’t help the tingly sensation in her fingertips.
“How are you doing on this fine day, Russo?” Chris said, loud and clear, before she had even approached. Splendid. She’d have to get used to being called by her surname now. “I see you’re all packed and ready to go, but perhaps I could interest you in a snack for the trip up? Or, should it be more to your liking, we can also introduce you to our extensive assortment of recreational drugs?”
Yalena bit her lip at the mixed feeling. Was she supposed to laugh it off or pretend it didn’t bother her?
“What did he just say?” a girl already seated in the transporter asked the guy next to her. Chris turned away and burst into laughter. In response, the girl clasped her backpack close to her chest like a shield.
Yalena’s skin turned into her patented blend of all shades of red. Now, the whole class would think she was an Earthling junkie.
Air filled her lungs as she tried to keep her cool. “Is this really necessary?”
Adam leaned against the transporter ladder. “I believe it is, dove. Your invite story was one for the ages. Don’t think we’ll get tired of retelling it anytime soon.”
“On the bright side, I told you she’d show,” Chris said to Adam. “Cough it up.”
“Oh, come on, man,” Adam complained.
Chris just shrugged and snapped his fingers until Adam pulled out his personal device—a white and sleek model Yalena had never seen before. The translucent screen flared up, and when Adam touched the tip of his device to the one Chris held out with a smile, the transaction confirmation beep provoked a scoff from one and a laugh from the other.
Adam looked up, as if to collect himself after his loss, and gestured to the transporter.
“Welcome to the best years of your life.” Chris winked.
Yalena raised her eyebrows, doubting she’d ever feel as cocky as he sounded.
“Just go on,” Adam said, before picking at Chris again. “No one says stuff like that on purpose, man.”
The few steps up allowed Yalena a better look at the passengers in the shuttle. There were more boys than girls, and all their conversations were reduced to nervous chatter and whispered introductions. As the latest arrival, Yalena hurried to take the third seat in a row of four. To her left was the blonde who’d seemed terrified they’d be offered drugs just a minute ago. Her blue, angelic eyes widened, and she quickly took a few noisy gulps from her water bottle.
“It was a joke, you know.” Yalena felt silly stating it out loud.
“Oh?” The situation was surprise and discomfort in equal parts.
“I mistook them for promoters when they came to find me.”
The girl tightened her loop-through ponytail, mulling over that sentence, as if to evaluate how likely it was to be true. The simple, but impeccable elegance in her looks made Yalena doubt everything from her own casual wardrobe selection to the red lip stain she usually wore.
“I’m Jennevier. Jen,” the girl said at last. She extended a hand formally.
“I’m Yalena.” They sure were the only two shaking hands, and Yalena would be lying if she said it wasn’t a little weird. “Did you meet everyone already?”
“A few of them.” Jen rocked in her seat. “Are you a space...enthusiast? You must be, if you’re here.”
Yalena let out a jittery snort. “I’ve never done anything space-related.”
Jen stared at her as if afraid she’d be gone in a blink. “Me neither. Nothing whatsoever to do with it. My parents are surgeons, and I’d already been accepted to med school. But this is a very curious of
fer, so we figured...”
“I was supposed to go to law school.” Yalena leaned in, unable to believe her luck. There was someone else here like her. Someone else who had no idea why they were chosen. The thought of that was both calming and unnerving. Why were they here, then?
When two more students came out of the security control, the Earthling part of the class had gathered. But before any of the latest arrivals or Chris could take the free spot next to Yalena, a skinny, tall guy who had been seated in the back row squeezed in. He collapsed onto the seat and almost nudged Yalena with his bony elbow. Bushy black hair spiked in all directions. He brushed it back from his tanned face, slicking it with his fingers.
“Sorry. This one’s taken,” he offered an excuse in Chris’ direction.
Yalena couldn’t help but make a face at Jen. Was everyone going to be this confident?
“You’re the other one!” The boy used his newly-acquired position to glare at her up close, evaluating. His Asian features didn’t fool Yalena, who always preferred to trust accents for figuring out where people came from. This guy might look Korean, in part at least, but his accent screamed old England.
“The other what?”
“The other off-the-grid recruit.” He was awe-struck. “Yalena Russo. Very difficult to find, indeed. I liked your web of firewalls and the use of police stamps to black out personal data from public records. It was clever. I’m not sure the authorities would appreciate it, but hey, the things we do in the name of privacy, right?”
Yalena’s jaw had fallen wide open while he piled up his evidence. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“Of course, you are!” he snickered. “Do you think I needed more than five minutes to find any of the others? Social media buffoons,” he said. “You were the only one that put up a decent fight. I can show you how I broke through in the end, and then we could amp up your...”
“I’m sorry, uh...” she interrupted.
“Nico.”
The Unsound Theory (STAR Academy Book 1) Page 2