by Lisa Jade
I scoff.
“I’m a better swimmer than anyone on board. I’m the only person on the whole damn ship who wouldn’t have drowned.”
He falls silent at that, but there’s conflict in his eyes, suggesting this conversation is far from over. I turn my gaze forward again, staring at the back of the man carrying Terri. She’s protesting again, pleading quietly with him to let her down and allow her to walk for herself. Sabina, who’s been walking silently alongside them, fires a sympathetic look at her Companion.
“We’re here now.”
The Doctor turns out to be a grizzly-looking man with white whiskers and liver spots. He swoops in and cups Terri’s face in his hands.
“This is the one you reported in about?”
“Yes, sir. Nearly drowned.”
He pauses.
“How did that happen?”
“The platform at the Oasis collapsed. We’ve got structural engineers looking into it, and the area has been made safe.”
The Doctor nods.
“How bizarre. Though I suppose mistakes happen, on rare occasion. I have faith that whatever idiot designed it will be appropriately punished. For now, please lay the patient on the plinth.”
The crew member does as he’s told, resting Terri on her back within the glass tube. Lucinda and Isaac both step back, and I find myself mimicking them. If they know what this thing is, that’s good enough for me. The tube begins to quiver, and a thin band of chrome works its way up and down the length of it. As the band moves faster and faster, it begins to blur.
“What is that thing?” I ask. Lucinda shrugs, still clearly irritated.
“It’s the MedBay’s main piece of equipment. It can heal wounds within minutes.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yep. And it doesn’t even leave a scar.”
Unconsciously, my hand moves toward my arm, but she just shakes her head.
“It can’t fix existing scars, though. Unfortunately.”
“Oh. Right.”
As the Tube works, the Doctor turns to us.
“Did this one fall in too?”
He flashes a light in each eye and hands me a towel. I take it with thanks, suddenly grateful that he’s too busy to do a thorough check.
“You seem to be fine,” he says idly, turning his attention back to the working tube, “you didn’t get hit by the metal when it collapsed, did you?”
“Quinn jumped in after Terri,” says Sabina, her eyes fixed on the tube, “she swam to the bottom of the pool and pulled her out. It was amazing.”
The Doctor watches me with renewed interest.
“You can swim?”
My mind races, searching for the perfect lie; but Lucinda steps in first.
“Quinn was actually a competitor in ocean swimming on Three. One of the best.”
“Very impressive. Well, I suppose we should be happy you were around to help.”
It’s strange. These are all very nice things being said about me – but I don’t feel happy. There’s some satisfaction that Terri will be okay, and that I didn’t have to witness yet another tragic death; but the way the others look at me makes it clear they’re unhappy. I suppose I can understand – even agree, to a point. Drawing attention to myself was reckless at best, utterly stupid at worst. Luckily, they both seem to be holding back.
“What about Terri?” asks Sabina, panic barely concealed in her voice.
“Not to worry,” he replies, “two minutes in here and that cut will be entirely healed. My file says this she’s medically trained anyway, so I’m sure she’s familiar with the process used in the tube. As for you…”
He turns towards me, frowning. I suddenly become very aware that I’m dripping water all over the perfectly polished floor.
“You’re unharmed, but clearly exhausted. As it’s getting late anyway, your prescription is a good night’s sleep. You’ll be fine by morning.”
“Thank you.”
With that Lucinda and Isaac head from the room, and I catch myself trailing after them like that little lost puppy I never wanted to be.
I sit on my bed and stare up at the ornate ceiling. Luckily for me, the ship wasn’t designed with people like Lucinda in mind. Each room has a spare bed in its own connected space, built specifically for a Companion. I’ve been put to bed by Lucinda, who was oddly unwavering in her insistence that I follow the Doctor’s orders. I shift a little under the covers, marvelling at the sensation of the silky bedspread against my skin. Thread count. That’s a thing, right? Another random, arbitrary way for rich people to talk about how rich they are.
The others are already asleep; I can hear Isaac tossing and turning in the adjacent room, and Lucinda’s gentle snoring from next door.
I need to go to sleep. This has been a long day. I woke up in Four and somehow ended up on the Neptune. And that’s without the whole ‘collapsing platform’ incident. My limbs are like lead, and my eyelids feel even heavier. Exhaustion runs rampant through my body, and sleep should be coming easily.
But it’s not. Because it’s here, as the chaos of the day vanishes and silence takes hold, that my mind begins to wander. Now, there’s nothing to stop me thinking about what happened. Nothing to filter the terrible thoughts from the good ones.
I wonder what Dad did after I left. I suppose it’s one of two things; he’s either distressed, panicked and heartbroken – which only causes my guilt to grow – or he’s so furious he’s simply cut off his feelings. Most people who know my Dad wouldn’t think he’d be capable of that, but I’ve seen it for myself.
When my mother left, she promised she’d return to Pyre after her four years were up. Five years later we’d still heard nothing, and though our friends and neighbours warned us that she wouldn’t return, Dad had been nothing short of optimistic. He’d sit with me every time I cried, telling me that she’d be home before I knew it. To this day, I’m not entirely sure whether he believed it, or if he just didn’t want to break my heart.
So when she returned that cold evening, asking him to sign two documents – one to dissolve their marriage, and one to formally disown me – he’d drawn into himself. He barely spoke, he didn’t leave the house. He would scold me for the slightest thing, then refuse to acknowledge me for days. I was alone for a long while before Alice came along, and even then, it took years to rebuild our family.
Is that what’s happened? Is Dad sitting in the basement of our shoddy, cloned house, chipping away at the nearest block of wood to make another damn cuckoo clock? Is he desperately trying to find me, trying to find someone, anyone who might be able to contact me? Or has he moved on, unable to deal with the loss of his entire family? If a miracle occurs and I manage to return home one day, will I even have a home to return to?
The thought brings tears to my eyes. I know Alice will be angry. She tried so hard to break me out of my rut. And how have I repaid her? By running the first chance I had.
I know I’m doomed. That’s something I acknowledged the moment the cargo door clanged shut behind me. I probably won’t ever see my family again.
Suddenly, I’m filled with a longing for home. For familiar sights and sounds, the scent of clean air over the sea and the distant call of gulls overhead. Even the stink of freshly caught fish would be welcome right now. I click on the light, then pull out the rucksack Alice gave me. It was only yesterday, but it feels like it’s been a lifetime.
I know it’s stupid, that it’s just sandwiches and maybe a bottle of water – but I need something to remind me of home. Anything will do.
I flip open the bag and reach inside; but to my surprise, it’s packed to the brim with clothing. I tug out the first item. It’s my favourite jumper. The second, my most comfortable jeans. My worn-out boots, my hairbrush. Why would Alice pack all this?
The last item sits at the very bottom of the rucksack. It’s a small piece of paper folded several times, like someone was hoping it wouldn’t be noticed. I unfold it and take a deep breath at the f
amiliar sight of Alice’s neat, curved handwriting.
Quinn,
I’m sorry to do this to you.
When my parents died, all those years ago, they were trying to start a revolution. They wanted to end the suffering of Four at the hands of the Operators, and the Council who gave them their power. Their deaths marked the end of that effort. My whole life, people have been too afraid to even try and stand up to them. They all fear the same end.
Except for you. The day that you and Cherise stood against them, things changed. People were inspired by your unity. You’re the only person to stand against the Operators and survive. Each and every day, I’m asked about you. Not about your recovery, or when you’re coming back – but what you plan to do next. Everyone is waiting for you to make a statement, fight back, resist once more.
Initially, I tried to fight it. You’re my sister, and I couldn’t stand to put you at risk. I’ve already lost too many people I love. But each day I see you slipping further away from me. And I realised that something needs to be done.
When the moment is right, I plan to give you the nudge you need. You’ll run onto the Neptune, and that will be the single greatest act of resistance in years. Once people are stirred up, I’ll try to gather them. I’ll build a rebellion like my parents had always planned to. By the time you return, Four will finally be free.
As for you… I know you. You won’t be happy unless you do this. I’m sure you’ll find some way to get by, and I hope it’s as amazing as you always dreamt it would be. If I can liberate Four by the time you arrive on Orithyia, I may be able to win your freedom. You might come home yet.
Don’t worry about Dad. I’ll keep him company and explain everything. He’s going to be mad once he finds out. But this is important to both of us.
Take care of yourself, okay? Make sure you eat and sleep properly, and remember – don’t start any fights you can’t finish. Love you.
Alice
I stare at the letter for several minutes, reading and rereading until the words are saved to memory. I read it for so long that I barely register the tears streaming down my cheeks and dripping onto the paper.
I’ve always known that Alice hated the Council, and the Operators too. We all do, but she’s more outspoken than most. I’d assumed it was due to her parents’ deaths, but never brought it up for fear of encouraging her. I didn’t want her to get hurt. It looks as though she’s always been planning this – and I seem to have given her an opportunity.
Perhaps I should be angry. Using what’s happened to me as a catalyst for her rebellion isn’t exactly a loving act. That’s why she didn’t tell me her plans. But for some reason, I don’t feel any anger. Instead, I understand. She needs to do this, just like I do.
I clutch the paper to my chest. I always assumed nobody understood this. Not even Dad, despite his best efforts. But apparently, Alice did. She said the right words at the right time, because she knew it’s what I needed to hear. She gave me the confidence to go. I look at the pile of clothes and pick up the nearest item, sniffing deeply. It smells like home, like cheap washing powder and fresh air.
A knock comes at the door.
“Quinn? You alright?”
Lucinda pokes her head into the room, concern filling her eyes. I didn’t think I was crying so loudly. I dab desperately at my face and shake my head.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
“I thought I heard… are you sure you’re okay?”
She gazes down at the paper in my hand.
“What’s that?”
“A letter from my sister. Back on Four.”
“You must miss her.”
I chuckle.
“You have no idea.”
She looks me up and down for a long moment, then bites her lip.
“Hey. You know you can always spend the night in my room, right? If you ever… don’t want to be alone. Nothing weird, I just… I’m here, if you need me.”
I fire a smile her way.
“Thanks… Luci.”
She nods and pulls the door shut; but not before I see the pleased expression on her face.
As I pack the items away, eager to keep the scent alive as long as possible, my heart feels just a little bit lighter.
Eleven
I wake to the sound of a distant bell. Is Four in trouble? Bells only ring during storms. But then I take a deep breath, and the undeniable scent of lavender fills my head. Oh. Right. I’m not in Pyre anymore.
I tug on the clothes Luci has laid out for me, scrape my hair back into a sleek ponytail, then head into her room.
She’s already awake. She sits at the ornate dresser, carefully applying some crimson lipstick. When I enter, she flips back her hair and looks me up and down.
“There you are. Finally. Those clothes look good on you.”
I glance down at the outfit she’s chosen; a pair of jeans so tight it’s hard to breathe, and a black, long-sleeved top trimmed with lace. It’s much closer to my own style, as opposed to the short dress she had me prancing around in last night.
“It’s more practical, I’ll give you that.”
She pouts.
“Well, I figure that if you’re going to make a habit of jumping into pools…”
“You’re still mad about that? It was an emergency.”
She fixes me with a stern look, but then falters.
“Oh… I know it was. But Quinn, you really scared us.”
“Really?”
“We didn’t know you could swim. For all we knew, you were drowning.”
Heat fills my face. I suppose I hadn’t thought about that.
“Even so… you’ve only known me a day. Why worry?”
A small smile works its way onto her face.
“We’re friends, aren’t we? We have to be, if we want any chance of getting by for the next two years. And as your friend, let me give you a little advice.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t be reckless. I know you’re trying to help, but please. I don’t know if I could deal with having you die – not after we’ve risked everything to keep you safe.”
Guilt jabs at me.
“I understand. I’m sorry.”
“Good!” she grins, suddenly fully of energy, “then we’re in agreement. No more recklessness. Let’s get breakfast.”
For the rest of the day, the same, looped message blares over the Intercom. It’s the stern, familiar voice of the Captain, reassuring us that the incident with the platform was a freak accident and not cause for concern. He firmly reminds us that the Neptune was built to the highest possible specifications. and constructed by some of the brightest minds in the industry. The collapse is being investigated, he says, and whoever is responsible will be punished.
Isaac meets us after breakfast. He’s wearing a t-shirt and overly-long scarf. His hair is down, and it’s only now that I realise how long it is. Longer than mine, trailing to the waist of his jeans and yet somehow in flawless condition.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“We already had a talk about reckless behaviour,” Luci tells him, “Quinn has promised not to do it again.”
He shoots me a grim smile.
“Good. You had us worried.”
I open my mouth to object, perhaps to remind him that I was never in any real danger – but a cold look from Luci silences me. I settle for nodding instead.
“Luci!”
Sabina’s voice echoes down the hallway, and a split second later she barrels into Luci, pulling her into a strong-armed embrace.
“How was your first night aboard?”
“Amazing! I slept like a baby in that bed!”
“They’re gorgeous, aren’t they? And I could barely hear the engines, even though we travel so fast at night!”
As the two women launch into conversation, I glance behind them. Terri is taking her time catching up. Her arms are down, her hands folded together as though holding a bu
nch of flowers. She looks well, all things considered; though her eyes widen as she spots us.
“Are you okay today?” Isaac asks her, his voice gentle. She nods.
“I’m alright. It was just a small cut. The MedBay fixed it in minutes. See?”
She tugs back a lock of mousy hair where the cut had been, revealing perfect skin. I gape.
“That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She shoots me a strange look and I gulp.
“Y-you know, on the South side.”
Terri replaces the lock of hair and looks me up and down, perhaps searching for signs of injury. There’s something surprisingly meticulous about her gaze, sending uncomfortable shivers through me.
“About yesterday,” she says slowly, “thank you for what you did.”
My cheeks burn.
“D-don’t mention it.”
Her lips draw back in a smile, but it’s not quite the same smile as yesterday. It’s a little softer and more genuine. I return it warmly.
“Terri,” Sabina says suddenly, “come on. We’re going to the spa.”
She nods obediently. Luci grins, then looks over at me.
“You really wouldn’t like the spa, Quinn.”
“No?”
“Nah,” she shrugs, “lots of unnecessary touching.”
Her eyes drop to my arm and I nod. She’s right; accompanying her might expose me.
“It doesn’t sound like my thing, no.”
“In that case, why not keep Isaac company for a while? I’m sure he’s up for it.”
I look at Isaac, who simply shrugs.
“I don’t mind.”
“In that case,” she says, “Bro, I’m lending you my Companion. Take good care of her, okay? I will be mad if you break her.”
Isaac nods, then turns to me.
“I can introduce you to my friend Finn, if you like. You probably don’t remember…”
“The man from yesterday? With the hair?”
He chuckles.