The Ark

by Laura Liddell Nolen

  “I have no idea.”

  He shook his head and held the plate toward me with a lopsided smile. “Bon appétit.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Three grilled cheeses and two apples later, I lay on the couch, groaning. “I’ve never been so full in my life.”

  “That last round might have been overkill, in retrospect,” said Eren from the armchair.

  “Who says retrospect?” I tossed a cushion at him.

  “I do. You should, too. It’s a perfectly good word.”

  “Hmm. I prefer to look forward.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced around the room, presumably at his photographs. “That makes a lot of sense these days.”

  “Speaking of which, we need a plan.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting me out of here.”

  “Uh, not sure if you noticed, but we’re on a spaceship. So ‘out of here’ is space.”

  “No, I mean, out of this area. There are a hundred thousand people on this ship. I should be able to disappear without too much of a problem.”

  “But it’s not safe.”

  I laughed. “I’ve never been safe. Ever. And besides, I’ve been thinking. They’re probably going to catch up with me sooner or later. I have to make my peace with that. And the only way to do that is to make something of the time I have left. So I’m going to figure out what’s going on with those weapons.” I didn’t tell him my other goal, which was to find my family. That would lead to too many questions, and I wouldn’t have known the answers.

  I don’t know how long the silence lasted, but when he spoke again, my mind was a thousand miles away, with West. I tried to picture what his new life must be like. In the Ark’s biosphere, the air would be hot and humid, like in his beloved greenhouse back home. I wondered whether he’d get into mock battles with his coworkers using garden hoses and spray bottles, the way we used to do. I’d been gone from his life for many years, even though his memory was constantly a part of mine.

  I hoped he had someone to goof around with. He was far too serious when left to his own devices.

  “Fine.”

  “Uhn?” I did not open my eyes. I could still see West’s face, barely.

  “Fine, I’m in.”

  “In what?”

  “I’m going to help you.”

  Now I was focused. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” He twisted the corner of the cushion I’d thrown at him, then caught himself and tossed it to the ground. “But you’re serious. If you found weapons, then we have no idea how far this goes. And they’re looking for you, Mag. Really looking. You won’t last a minute out there. You need help.”

  I didn’t know whether I agreed with that last part, but he made a good point. I could use a hiding place and a steady supply of food. And hey, if he was willing to help me out, who was I to tell him otherwise? He’d already saved my life twice, though something kept me from acknowledging that out loud.

  Plus, he knew way more about the layout of the Ark than I did. Information had been filtered in public, but as a member of the staff, he’d have a wealth of data: everything from the layout of each level to the names of the highest-ranking cops. Or guardians. Whatever. I could use this guy, at least for awhile.

  I nodded.

  “You’ll stay here?”

  “For now.”

  “Okay.” He looked relieved. “Okay. Partners.”

  “Partners.” I smiled. “So tell me about the ship.”

  For the next couple of hours, Eren ran through the organization of humanity under the Treaty of Phoenix. I knew far less than I let on, but he patiently explained everything from the beginning.

  I perked up when he started talking about Commander Everest, the most powerful person on the North American Ark. In the continent-wide election, Everest had barely edged out the American president, who had then been left behind due to his age.

  “And there’s almost no one over forty on any of the ships,” he finished. “To maximize our reproductive capabilities. Once we land on Eirenea, and get it terraformed and stuff, there’s going to be major bonuses for everyone who has a baby.”

  “That just seems… wrong.”

  “About the babies? Or the elderly?”

  “The elderly. I mean, it’s not like forty-five is even old. We lost multiple generations with the swipe of a pen. Doesn’t that seem… crazy?”

  “The whole thing is weird. But it helps to remember that the main goal in all of this, the only goal, is to save the human race. So many people had to die, and there wasn’t time to build more Arks, or they would have. The people who wrote the Treaty understood that.” He paused, as though trying to process everything all over again. “It’s the only thing that kept me going, down below. Just knowing that it all meant something; that we would survive, as a species.

  “Anyway. They don’t know exactly how long it’ll take to get to Eirenea, so they figured young people are their best bet.”

  I snorted. “They obviously don’t know the same young people I do.”

  He ignored that. “And it matters now more than ever, because of Ark Five.”

  I recalled that Five was the Afro-Australian Ark. “What do you mean? What happened on Five?”

  “You didn’t hear? I knew they kept some stuff from the public, but… wow. Where have you been?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Tell me about Five. Some kind of leak, right? Did they fix it?”

  “Magda, the whole thing was destroyed. Either a leak, or a bomb, or something. There is no Five.”

  Sixteen

  Four hundred thousand. There are four hundred thousand human beings left. In the entire universe. And none of us can ever go back to Earth again.

  I tuned out most of the rest of the conversation after that. He talked about Universal Time, which meant that all of surviving humanity kept to basically the same schedule, sleeping during the night and working during the day, even across different Arks. I guessed that helped save electricity and made communications easier among different ships. There was something about the changes in the education system, which now ended at the age of nine, since ten-year-olds were such an important part of the workforce. Obviously.

  I paid more attention when he mentioned that this level housed guardians only. That explained all the offices I’d run past. “So, all the guardians live on this floor? Including Commander Everest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think we should start with him.”

  Eren shook his head. “Uh, no. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Sure it does. Who else has the authority to sneak in a bunch of weapons?”

  “It makes no sense because it’s his ship. Why would he want to hurt it?”

  “Who said he wanted to hurt the ship itself? I found guns, not bombs. Maybe he just wants to make sure he stays in power permanently. Either way, it’s against the Treaty.”

  “Mag, he’ll stay in power anyway. The only way his term can end is if the Tribune calls for a referendum, or we land on Eirenea, in which case the government starts from scratch. Or if he retires, of course.”

  “I don’t know. Sounds to me like he has a lot to lose.”

  “We can’t just start somewhere else? As one half of this partnership, I think the Commander is a waste of time.”

  I sighed. “Alright. Who else on this level has a high enough clearance to arm an army?”

  “We don’t know it’s an army.”

  “Eren, wake up. What else do you need guns for? No one’s going hunting up here.”

  “We can’t ignore the obvious possibility.”

  “Which is?”

  “Maybe someone wanted to save them for a museum, or something.”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “In which case, they’d need the Commander’s permission.”

  “Can we just focus on someone besides the Commander?”

  “Then tell me who else had control over what gets cleared throu
gh cargo.”

  “Okay. There’s Jorin Malkin, Head Guardian. He’s the Commander’s lieutenant, sort of like a second-in-command. The heads of InterArk Comm Con and IntraArk Comm Con probably had access, and maybe Transit Control–”

  “Wait, what’s a comm con?” I asked.

  “IntraArk Communications Control. It governs communications on board this ark. InterArk Comm Con deals with communications from ark to ark.”

  “Oh. Right. So four other people?”

  Eren paused. “And the Tribune Liaison. That’s, uh, me.”

  I knew enough about the Treaty of Phoenix to recognize the reference to the Tribune, a shadowy group of thinkers tasked with making high-level judgments that even the five Commanders couldn’t influence. Their identities were a secret, and no one even knew which Ark, or Arks, they lived on. It made sense that they’d have a liaison on each Ark. “Oh, fancy, fancy. Tribune Liaison, huh. So five people.”

  His blue eyes took on a new intensity. “Magda, no. It’s four. I’m not seriously a suspect, right?”

  I didn’t answer that. “I’m not counting you; I’m still counting the Commander. But we can focus on the other four.”

  He sighed. “Great. So what’s the plan?”

  “You go to work during the day, like usual, while I search their rooms. Then at night, we’ll canvass the offices, control rooms, and anywhere else we can’t get to during work hours. You know how many guardians patrol this floor at night?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, they won’t suspect you anyway. And we’ll have to split up.”

  Eren looked pained.

  “Look, if we’re seen together, they’ll know where I’m hiding. Then it’s game over.”

  “Okay, fine. We’ll split up. But we can’t go out tonight; they’ll be looking for you everywhere. You should stay in for the next few days. And when you do leave, promise me you’ll be careful.”

  I smiled. “Always. So, when’s lights-out?”

  I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the next couple of days with Eren. I unpacked his stuff while he was at work, carefully leaving the piles of clothing and rumpled bed sheets untouched, in case I needed to hide. In the evenings, we cooked together and played video games from Eren’s extensive collection. My favorite game was one about a chase through a forest. The graphics were so realistic, right down to the sound of tiny twigs snapping underfoot, that I started dreaming that I was walking with Eren through the dark, quiet woods. He’d point out different kinds of trees, and explain how you can tell the species of an oak by the pattern of the veins on its leaves. I would smile, nodding, and inhale the crisp scent of pine all around us.

  Or maybe my dreams were about West. When I awoke, I was never sure.

  “You must be going crazy, all cooped up like this,” Eren said one night during my turn in the chasing game.

  I didn’t look away from the screen. It was my favorite part of the game, where you could climb inside a giant redwood to hide from the hunters. “It’s not so bad. I’m kinda used to it.”

  “Don’t get out much, huh. Sheltered girl?”

  I snorted. “‘Sheltered’ is one word, I guess.”

  “So, what was your life like? I mean, before.”

  “Just… normal, I guess.” I missed the redwood, and the hunters closed in on my little fox character onscreen. My red tail swished into view, then disappeared as I started running again. The first arrow missed its mark, and I scrambled to find another place to hide before the hunter could nock another arrow.

  “School, homework, all that?” Eren leaned his head back against his recliner, eyes closed, as though reliving some moment of his own life on Earth.

  “Uh huh.” I hadn’t seen the inside of a classroom in years.

  “Did you have a job after school or anything?”

  The second arrow must have landed true, because the screen filled up with red, signaling the end of the game. I tossed the controller onto the couch. “No job.”

  “Lots of friends?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Seriously? Why the third degree?”

  His eyes popped open. “I’m just trying to get to know you. They say it’s good to talk about Earth. Therapeutic, or something.”

  “Not for me, it’s not.”

  “Did he get left behind?”

  “Who?” I could feel my voice rising.

  “Your… never mind.”

  I set my jaw and stared straight ahead at the crimson screen, which read “Continue? Quit?” in bright letters. Only when Eren reached for the controller and restarted the game did I speak. “I’m going to start looking tonight.”

  His blue eyes focused on mine. “Magda.”

  “Don’t. It’s time. I did everything you asked.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Too dangerous. This way, if I’m caught, you’ll be out of trouble.”

  “Mag. Please. Why can’t you stay here with me? I can protect you. After awhile, it’ll be obvious that you’re not a terrorist. People will stop looking. You can apply for citizenship, or something.”

  “That’s, like, years from now. And the law would have to change. They could catch me anytime between now and then.”

  He swallowed. “But you’d be safe.”

  “I’d be worthless. I’d be the person who found a stash of illegal weapons on a ship full of helpless people and did nothing about it.”

  “You don’t even know why it’s there.”

  “And I never will, unless I start looking.” I paused. “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done for me. And I’ll do everything I can to keep them from knowing you helped. But I can’t live with myself anymore if I take the easy route. I’m finished with that part of my life.”

  “The easy part? Or the safe part?”

  “The part where I do what feels good. Where I only think about the next day, or the next hour.” I took a breath, and looked directly at him. “The truth is that I’m not the kind of girl you want to get to know.”

  He looked at the wall, then back to me. “Agree to disagree.”

  I smiled, in spite of myself. “Fine.”

  He returned my smile, just a little. “Fine.”

  A few hours later, Eren was asleep on the couch, and the clock above the door panel read “00:00 U.T.” I was impressed by Eren’s sleeping skills. He could lose consciousness at a moment’s notice, and stay asleep however long he wanted. I, on the other hand, generally spent the first hour or so in bed tossing and turning, and would jolt awake, heart racing, at the slightest noise.

  I didn’t even glance back at him when I slipped out the door. I knew he wouldn’t hear me.

  My first choice of rooms to search was the Commander’s office. But I’d promised Eren I’d focus elsewhere, and for some reason, that had begun to matter to me. Plus, I’d rather search the Commander’s bedroom anyway, and I’d have to wait until “daytime” to do that.

  InterArk Comm Con was as good a place as any to start, so I headed “east” out of Eren’s room. I brought with me a detailed copy of the map Eren had drawn when he’d finally explained the basic layout of the Ark. He’d carefully marked down everything he knew, and included a second page of specifics on the Guardian Level, where we were. I made my own copy, then destroyed his. If anyone caught me, the only handwriting they’d find was mine.

  The Ark was shaped like an enormous doughnut with a huge, cut-out circle in the center, or “torus,” as Eren had called it before I threw another pillow at him. To create gravitational pull, the doughnut spun like a wheel, with the floors being concentric circles expanding out from the hole at the center. That explained why gravity was stronger in the outer, “lower,” levels and lighter on the inner ones. The Ark was also divided into ten sectors by barriers, like the spokes of a wheel.

  The Guardian Level, complete with any mission-critical operation centers, was at the sweet spot of the ship, where the amount of pull most simulated the gra
vity of Earth. The general population lived and worked in the levels above and below it. Cargo was stored in the outermost rims, along with greenhouses and the aquaria, where the force was considered too strong for people.

  The panel slid open with the access code Eren had given me, and I stepped into a huge, round room. He’d explained that the room was generally unguarded at night, except for the security panel, and only high-ranking guardians had access after hours. I had broken into enough places to question this. In my experience, the easier the job, the less the payout. Surely the Commander had some kind of eyes on a room like this, unless there was nothing here worth finding.

  But Eren was right. Row after row of desks and empty chairs surrounded the central space, like an amphitheater. The screens at each workstation were locked onto the same moving image, a rotating blaze of fire and stars.

  My attention was glued to the space in the middle of the room. A delicate hologram stretched up from a raised panel to slightly above eye level. It was beautiful. Tiny dots of white light flitted across the space in random bursts, like an intricate meteor shower.

  I fought back a flush of jealousy. What kind of life had these people led on Earth to land a position like this? I crept toward the holo, all but invisible in the darkness. I had the feeling that something more than its beauty was pulling my attention toward the dancing lights, but I couldn’t explain it.

  After several minutes, I refocused. There were no buttons or controls near the holo, so I turned to the rest of the room. The circles of desks containing identical screens would be for the lower-level engineers, who probably each managed smaller, more detailed amounts of data. I wanted the desk that controlled everything.

  My search was rewarded when I reached the lowest row in the amphitheater, which housed a desk the size of my parents’ banquet table. This desk had a couple of small screens built into its surface, but when I sank into the chair, I had a perfect view of the holo. Whoever sat here oversaw the whole enchilada. Bingo.

  I leaned all the way back, fighting the urge to continue staring at the rushing lights, and studied the controls in front of me. There was a normal keyboard, but pressing the keys didn’t do anything. Then there was a series of other buttons, including one in the corner of the desk that looked promising. I held it down for a few seconds, and the desk was suddenly illuminated from underneath the wood, and a small hologram of moving lights floated up to the level of my chest. I reached out to touch them, and the lights on the giant holo jumped back.