by Jay Allan
Theory; Artificial Environments; Dome construction; Blueprints.
Era’s breath caught in her throat. Artificial environments? Dome construction? Did this have something to do with Soren?
Mali hit scan, and a new list appeared.
“The first cube code usually matches the query best, but not always,” Mali pointed to the top code on the list. “So we send that one up first. If executive sends down for more information, we send them the next relevant matches, in order.”
“Why would they be searching for—?”
“Era,” Mali said, her voice low. “You do not discuss what you see here. Not ever. Cube orders are confidential. Our job is not to analyze why they call up these cubes. Our job is to care for the archives and no more.”
“I understand. But—as an archivist, have you ever…looked at one of the archive cubes?”
Mali rubbed the back of her neck. “Only in very rare instances and only with prior approval. Though we do have access to cubes that relate to our archivist duties.”
Mali cocked her head to the side, considering Era. “Every time a cube from the archive is accessed,” she said carefully, “it logs an eyepiece signature to show who accessed it.”
Era swallowed. “I understand.”
Mali held her gaze for a moment and nodded. “Good.”
She brought up the cube order again, the keywords replaced by a list of codes. She pulled the order from the stationary and pushed it into the slot on her handheld. Then, she picked up the archive case. “While I return these and get the new order, you sort the comms and label them like I showed you.”
“Can I—”
“If you find one from your husband, you can look at it. I won’t make you wait.” Mali headed for the archives.
Era grabbed the comm case and unlatched it. Eleven containers lay within. The twelfth space was empty. It would have held comms for executive sector. The rest of the containers were labeled with the names of each of the ten dekas and Soren: all the places messages could come from or be sent to. Era reached for the container labeled Soren.
Something turned over within her womb, and her hand flew to her stomach. Then another small movement, more obvious this time. The baby.
She’d almost convinced herself she hadn’t felt anything that day in helio sector, that it had just been her imagination. But there it was again, the fluttering sensation.
The Defect is a lie.
Era’s amnio results were probably ready by now, but she hadn’t gathered the courage to go to Medlevel and schedule her appointment. She couldn’t put it off much longer. Zephyr said she’d go with her, but that didn’t make any of it more bearable.
Era took a deep breath and glanced at the holo. The search results were gone now, but the holo was still logged into the search grid. She really should turn it off and begin sorting the comm cubes like Mali had asked her, but what the traitor had said…
She took a quick look around to make sure she was still alone. Mali had entered the archives, and only a few colonists waited on the benches to record messages.
She tapped the grid.
“New entry,” she whispered. “The Defect. Legacy Code.”
The words appeared on the entry line, and Era selected scan to begin the search. A long list of cube codes appeared, and Era’s pulse quickened.
What was she even hoping to find? The Defect wasn’t a lie. The Defect from the Legacy Code was real, and here were all the files to prove it.
Era memorized the first result, repeating it over and over until it stuck. CD-1dy34b.
She accessed the program’s memory core and wiped her search. What was she thinking, looking this stuff up? What was the point, when she couldn’t access the cubes anyway?
Era picked up the container labeled Soren. At least three dozen cubes lay within. If Dritan had the chance to record a message, he would’ve. And she really needed to see his face and hear his voice right now.
She found his message halfway through the stack. His still holo image made her heart hurt. His features were downcast, and his shoulders slumped. He didn’t look like the man she’d kissed good-bye. And this message would’ve been recorded as soon as he’d landed. How bad was it down there?
She hadn’t been close to anyone who’d been there, but she’d glimpsed those who’d come back to the London after the first draft. She’d heard their stories, second-hand: cave-ins, malfunctioning air purifiers, tainted water supplies, accidents with machinery. Many workers from the first draft had broken bodies and were nothing more than a burden to the fleet.
The survivors had stayed on their levels, rarely venturing upward. She’d seen them during her brief visits with Dritan in the sublevels. But all the survivors, visibly broken or not, wore haunted expressions, as if the people they’d lost on Soren still visited them at night, stealing their sleep. When Dritan came back, would he look like that? If Dritan came back…
Era’s stomach flipped, and she reached for a handheld under the station. She took Dritan’s comm cube from the stationary and sank to the floor behind the desk. No one needed to watch her cry. The tears were already coming, and she hadn’t even started the holovid yet.
She tapped the file and splayed her fingers wide, palm out, to launch it.
Dritan’s face appeared, and she involuntarily reached for him. Her hand passed through the holo, causing it to shimmer, and the pressure in her throat intensified.
Dark circles lined Dritan’s eyes, but he was still as handsome as ever. The scene behind him could’ve been the scene from inside any cubic, but the panels were clean and undented. If only the shiny, new cubic wasn’t deep underground on a toxic planet.
He cleared his throat. “Name: Dritan Corinth. Message for: Era Corinth. Destination: Paragon.” He smiled, but it looked false. “I only get a minute. I miss you, and I love you. I can’t wait to see you again. I hope things are okay up there.”
Dritan paused and ran a hand through his tight black curls. He leaned closer to the vidrelay. “By the time you get this, you’ll probably know the test results. Whatever they are, it’ll be okay,” he said forcefully, as if saying the words would make them true. “I wish I could be there for you. Let me know what’s happening.”
Tears slid down Era’s face, but she didn’t wipe them away.
Dritan seemed to want to say more, but he shot a glance past the vidrelay, where the witness would have been sitting.
“I’m staying safe. It’s great down here. Plenty of food. Everything works. I love you.” The holo blanked.
She pressed her lips together and watched the vid again. She needed to find out her test results and send him an answer. He deserved to know. He didn’t need to be worrying while he was doing his job.
Era wiped her face, sniffed, and got to her feet. She turned, searching for Mali, and saw her leaving the storage cubic. Era straightened.
She only had one more day to record a message for Dritan before the next shipment of cubes went out from the Paragon. She couldn’t put it off any longer. She should’ve gone two days ago to schedule her appointment on medlevel.
Mali walked up to the archivist station. “Did you get a message?”
Era nodded and rested her hand on her belly. “I need to make an appointment on medlevel. They had to give me an amnio. My results are probably ready. He’ll want to know what they are…”
Mali rested a hand on Era’s arm. “I’m sure he will. Why don’t you leave a little early today? Take care of what you need to.”
Had Mali had a failed pregnancy, too? Probably. Era had never heard her speak about any children. She took off her eyepiece and gave it to Mali. “Thank you.”
This was it. She’d schedule her appointment, and then she’d know.
She’d either be bringing new life into the fleet, or…
No point considering the alternative.
CHAPTER TEN
Era stepped up to the Population Management station and swiped her card.
The same girl from last time stood behind the station. Era drew a deep breath to steady herself. “The medic said I had to schedule an appointment.”
The clerk splayed her fingers wide and tapped the air. “Era Corinth. Ah. Your test results are ready.”
Era shifted her stance and fought the urge to walk out. She’d try to schedule her appointment for midbreak tomorrow, when she and Zephyr would both be free. She didn’t want to do this alone, not any more than she’d wanted to do it alone last time.
“Medic Faust can see you now,” the clerk said.
“What? I…I have to go to mess. Can I do it tomorrow?”
“No. Your appointment is flagged priority. And no one’s scheduled this block.” The clerk moved around the station and headed toward the corridor.
Priority? That was bad, wasn’t it? Why would she be flagged priority if they had good news for her?
Get it over with so Dritan can stop worrying. So you can stop wondering.
She struggled to keep her breathing even as she followed the clerk back to a cubic.
The clerk left. Era sat down on a stool and tapped her foot on the ground. She pressed her hands to her swollen belly and stared at the floor, willing herself to stay calm. Her mind wandered to the bare shelf in her cubic, to the pale green scrap of bedding folded there. Would they get the chance to wrap their newborn in it?
The buzzer sounded, calling an end to second shift and announcing the beginning of last mess.
Medic Faust entered, looking tired and older than she’d seemed just a week before. She sat down on a stool by the curved cabinets, a hard expression on her face, hands folded in her lap. Era’s shoulders caved in, and her stomach twisted on itself.
“I’m sorry. The cells have markers for the Defect.”
Era choked back a small sob, her hands slipping from her stomach.
Defective.
All the things she’d let herself dream about in the past few weeks, all the hope she’d had for the future. Gone.
Medic Faust’s lined face blurred in front of her, and Era leaned forward. The metal panels of the cubic seemed to grow closer, shutting her in.
“Your abort session will be two days from now. First shift, second block,” the medic said, not meeting Era’s eyes. “Dritan can attend. You’ll have a few free days afterward for recuperation.”
Era’s eyes focused on the medic’s hard face. “Dritan’s on Soren,” she whispered.
Medic Faust paled and rubbed her forehead. “I’d like to get you going on some grimp,” she said. She stood and opened a cabinet.
Grimp. The sound of the medic rifling through the cabinet took on a strange muffled quality, and a cold feeling spread through Era, starting at her throat and traveling down into her limbs.
Era rose to her feet and balled her hands into fists. “The Defect is a lie.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.
Medic Faust froze, and Era searched her face. But her expression was a blank mask and gave away nothing.
“Is it? Is it a lie?” Era’s voice cracked. “One of the traitors said it was.”
The medic’s eyes widened slightly, and she pressed her lips together. She took a step away from Era and placed the grimp back on the counter with a shaking hand. “The cells in your womb carry the Defect. I see you’re upset. I understand. But you should know better than to repeat the words of a traitor. You know what happened to the traitors. I won’t report this, but you need to forget what you heard him say.”
“It’s not just cells. I felt it move.”
The medic picked up the pills. “I want you to start on these. Once daily. They’ll help.”
Something wasn’t right, but this entire experience was beginning to feel holo, more like a nightmare than anything that could really be happening. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ll see you in two days. If I hear you talk like that again, I will have to report you.” The medic shoved the pills into Era’s hand and went to the door.
“What if I say no?”
“Say no?”
“What if I don’t want to abort.”
Medic Faust took a deep breath and met Era’s gaze. “Disobeying population regulation is treason. I trust you don’t want to experience the consequences of that.”
She hit the button on the door and gestured for Era to leave.
As Era passed through the doorway, the old medic gripped her shoulder with one bony hand. “You’re young enough to get another chance. The next one could be viable.”
Era narrowed her eyes. “‘A better world awaits.’ Doesn’t it?”
Medic Faust pursed her lips and released Era’s arm.
Era placed her hand against her stomach and hurried away, not knowing where she was going, only knowing she needed to get as far away from this level as she could.
∞
She took the stairs two at a time, not sure where she was fleeing to. A few colonists flashed her dark looks as she pushed past, but she didn’t slow down until she reached the top of the stairs. Observation.
It’d be empty during last mess, so close to curfew, but maybe…maybe Zephyr would be here. She wouldn’t have stayed in the galley for long without Era.
The blood-red planet filled the expanse, impassive as ever about its role in humanity’s survival.
Dritan was down there somewhere. Era’s eyes burned, and she moved forward, searching for Zephyr’s familiar head of red-blond hair.
Zephyr sat in front of the glass, but she wasn’t alone. Tadeo sat beside her, his head tilted toward her. He smiled at something she said and leaned closer.
Era’s stomach twisted. Tadeo didn’t need to know her baby was defective. And Zephyr didn’t need her night ruined. Little enough happiness on this fleet.
Era strode to the furthest empty corner of the observation deck. She collapsed on the floor and pressed against the hard metal wall. She still clutched the plastic packet of grimp in her hand, and she let it slide to the floor beside her.
Grimp would dull the pain, but it felt wrong to dull her senses—to avoid feeling the pain she should feel. Did feel.
This blackness felt like deep space, a place with no warmth, and no hope of life or light ahead. Soren blurred in her vision as the tears finally came.
At least her baby wouldn’t have to suffer a lifetime on Soren. She pressed both hands against her stomach and closed her eyes. Her own body had betrayed her, formed a baby who couldn’t survive.
My baby. Never just a ‘collection of non-sentient cells.’ In two days, I’ll cast you into a world that would have killed you even if I’d carried you longer.
“I’m so sorry,” Era whispered.
The ancestors deserved what they got for what they did to humanity.
No one ever talked about what it was like to have to abort. Was it this excruciating for others, or did she have an abnormal attachment to this—to the baby—within her?
Of course, it had to be done. There was no use carrying it to term. The lungs and heart would be wrong, deformed. It’d be born into the world and suffocate before taking its first breath. Letting it come to term was cruel and a waste of the extra food and water she’d consume.
The regulation was there to protect the living. She’d been so naive to let herself feel love for this baby before knowing if it had the Defect.
She rubbed the rough fabric over her stomach and swallowed against the pain in her throat. But would you really die? Is everything I know about the Defect true?
Era’s gaze focused on the jumpgate.
CD-1dy34b. The cube with the Legacy Code history on it.
Accessing the records would be treason, and she couldn’t get to them anyway, even if she was willing to commit the crime. And she wasn’t. She wouldn’t betray Mali’s trust.
Era Corinth. Traitor.
She let out a bitter laugh and wiped her face with her sleeve. Dritan told her to keep her head down. What would happen if the medic did report what Era said
today? How could I be so stupid?
She took a deep breath, grabbed the grimp packet from the floor, and pushed to her feet.
Zephyr and Tadeo still sat in front of the expanse, huddled close on the bench.
Era pushed her thoughts of treason away, buried them deep. She had to abort, follow the law. Other women did it. They aborted and somehow survived. She’d survive too. What other option was there?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Era spooned some quin gruel into her mouth and tried to swallow it. So tired. She’d had the nightmare again last night. Maybe her mind had been trying to warn her this whole time she’d have to abort.
She looked down at the sad, half-ration of gruel she’d been given, dropped the spoon into her bowl, and searched the galley for Zephyr. Era found her at the end of the line, taking a steaming bowl and cup from the galley worker’s grasp. Zephyr stepped out of line and headed toward her.
“Sorry I missed you last night,” she said as she slid onto the bench across from Era. She stared into her gruel, her spoon poised above it, a crooked half-smile on her lips. “I waited for you, but Tadeo wanted to meet up, and well, you know. He might’ve been hurt if I didn’t show. Couldn’t disappoint him.”
Zephyr wrinkled her nose and lifted a spoonful of the gruel. She let the coagulated mass slide back into the bowl. “But—ugh. I might have to stop seeing him if he keeps talking about the president like she’s some kind of old Earth Goddess.”
Era extended her arms in front of her, hands in fists, and closed her eyes. If there ever were any gods, they’d turned their backs on humanity a long time ago. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
“By the way, you’re wrong about him. He definitely likes girls—” Zephyr looked at Era and her brow creased with concern. “I did wait for you, you know, at least—for a little while—”
“I was at medlevel,” Era said.
Zephyr’s eyes widened, and she reached across the table to grip Era’s hand. “I said I’d come with you.”