“That would be terrifying,” he says. “But you’re strong enough to survive that.”
“I hope I would be,” I say, and I can’t meet his eyes.
He lifts his hand to my chin, tilting my face toward his. “I bet you could survive anything.” He leans forward, his lips parted.
I close my eyes, resting my hand on his chest, breathing in.
I pull back.
I know what comes next.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ryn drops his hand from my cheek, his fingers trailing slowly over my skin. Together, we climb down from the tree. He reaches up and pulls a blossom from a branch. We walk back across base and board the train, the air around us electric, alive. Just after we leave the station, before we head home, Ryn takes my hand and presses the flower into it.
* * *
—
“How did training go today?” Zo asks that night as we walk through the garden, gathering food for dinner. Every house in the Bay has a garden, a small plot of land given to each family by the government. The gardens are part of the Cultivation Enrichment Program. Each household is responsible for its own food source, just one more step forward in Abdolorean innovation.
Our father taught us how to plant seeds in long lines, leaving space for them to grow. The seeds are all genetically enhanced, and they bloom within a week of planting. I wander through the twisted vines, picking peaches, my bare feet buried in the dirt. Zo trails behind me, eating tomatoes like apples.
“It was fine,” I tell her. “We worked on some strength exercises.”
Zo bends down and picks a bunch of carrots. I walk through the rows of snow peas, snapping them from their vines. My muscles are sore, but in a good way, like I’m working hard at something and succeeding, as if Ryn were still nearby. It’s a feeling I could get used to.
We go through the entire garden, then head back into the house, pulling plates from the shelves, setting our food down on the table.
“Do you want these?” Zo asks, pushing a plate of grapes toward me. “They’re too sweet for me.”
“You’re the only person I know who likes their grapes sour,” I say, picking one off the stem and popping it into my mouth.
“So,” she says, tilting her head to one side. “How are things with Ryn?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my breath hitching in my chest.
She smiles and raises her eyebrows. “Are you guys chatting? Do you want him to call you?” she teases, using the word humans once used. Abdoloreans don’t use the same technology my ancestors did. To reach someone now, you beam them—your silhouette appears in the air in front of them, and they can choose to engage with you or not.
My cheeks flush. I run my finger along the edge of the table.
“Do you like him?” she asks. I feel her watching me, and I keep my face blank. I want to tell her everything. But I know I shouldn’t feel anything for him. Just being near him is dangerous.
“No,” I lie. “He’s in my Assessment group, that’s all.”
“That’s too bad,” she says. “It’s pretty nice, liking someone and having them like you back.”
I know she’s waiting for me to ask her what she means. When I don’t, she leans over and stares at me until I look up at her.
“Braxon kissed me,” she says, pulling off a grape and tossing it at me. I’ve never seen her look so happy. “The night of the party. He said he’s never met anyone like me before. He said I’m amazing.”
I nod slowly, remembering the way he touched me that night, holding on to me just because he could.
“Be careful, Zo,” I say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, a shadow passing over her face.
“Exactly what it sounds like.” I shrug. “Braxon isn’t a good guy, that’s all.”
She leans back in her chair, her eyes flashing.
“What’s your problem?” she asks. “Why can’t you be happy for me?” She pushes her chair back from the table.
“Zo,” I say, my voice calm. “I’m just saying I’d be careful if I were you. He barely knows you; how can he say he’s never met anyone like you?”
“It’s like all you want is for us both to be miserable,” Zo scoffs, her chin quivering. A wave of guilt washes over me.
Before I can apologize, she goes on. “Unlike you, I don’t have to be alone for the rest of my life.”
I flinch as though she’s reached out and slapped me.
The color leaves her face as she realizes what she’s said. She opens her mouth, as though to say something more, then changes her mind, turning and leaving me by myself.
For days after our fight, Zo and I are still circling each other, moving from room to room without speaking, looking away when we pass each other in the hall. I’m distracted at training later that week when a man I don’t recognize stands beside Magister Sethra, his uniform a darker version of the ones we have on, signifying his rank as officer.
“Attention, Cadets,” Sethra says. Everyone stops talking and turns to her. “Special Forces Officer Veku will be leading you in a tactical training workshop today,” she tells us. “You are to give him your full attention.”
She turns and moves to the edge of the room. Officer Veku steps forward and clears his throat. Ryn looks down the line, catching my eye.
Hi, he mouths.
Hi, I mouth back.
We’ve spent the whole week together. Each day, I tell my father a new lie about where I am after Assessment. I feel distance growing between us, a distance he doesn’t even know exists. I come home after Zo is in bed, her lights out. Some nights I stand at her doorway, listening for the sound of her inside, but it’s always quiet. I wonder if she misses me the way I miss her.
“Today we’ll be going over camouflage and tracking techniques,” Officer Veku says. “We’ll start with aquatic methods for achieving crypsis.”
The lights dim and a projection of an ocean appears around us, full of coral, schools of fish, and sea anemones. Our uniforms shift from silver to blue, matching the color of the water. We walk around the room, exploring the teeming life before us. It feels almost real, like we’re actually seeing these creatures, like they’re here with us.
“Your uniforms utilize active camouflage technology,” Veku explains. “In this way, you already have an advantage over whomever you’re trying to hide from.”
Ryn comes up next to me, his uniform shimmering as it blends into the water projection. He brushes his hand against mine, and heat races through me, filling me up.
“There are three main camouflage techniques in water,” Veku goes on. “Reflection, counterillumination, and transparency.”
A school of fish swims past us, scales glittering, and our uniforms shift again to match them, as though our bodies are mirrored, reflecting the light of the sun.
“Fish do this in shallow water,” Ryn whispers, looking down at his arms in amazement. “Their scales catch the light and beam it back up to the surface so they blend in with the water. It’s called silvering.”
The room darkens as though night has fallen. Moonlight shines across the water. The color on our uniforms deepens, giving off a slight glow. I look across the room at Nava and Ranthu, their bodies barely visible in the projection of the water.
“Counterillumination is a method of camouflage in which light is produced to match the illumination of the ocean’s surface,” Veku says. “Imagine you’re stranded at sea and enemy airships are searching for you. If you’re being pursued while counterilluminating, you’ll blend into the surface of the water, reaching the height of crypsis.”
The hologram shifts from night back to day, from ocean to forest. Sunlight filters through the trees. A small stream runs down the middle of the room.
“We’ll now go over tracking skills,” Veku says. He takes us through the trees, pointing out footsteps in the dirt, broken sticks, and overturned rocks. He shows us subtle marks in the moss, indentat
ions in the vines wrapped around the trees.
“These are all markers of displacement,” he says. “Proof that someone walked through here before us.”
He shows us how to look for where someone might be hiding, how to move in ever-widening circles if we lose our trail, how to walk through water so our presence can’t be traced. He teaches us to use the forest to shield ourselves, how to hide in the underbrush to evade capture, our bodies blending in with the ground.
There are so many ways that this earth can hide us, I think.
There are so many ways to disappear.
The trees around us fade. The lights in the auditorium come up and we’re back standing in the middle of an empty room. Magister Sethra waits by the door. She motions for us to follow her outside. The sky is expansive, full of light. After what we just did, the world we’re in almost doesn’t feel real.
“You’re dismissed for the day,” Sethra tells us.
Ryn looks over at me hopefully, but today, I shake my head. I promised my father we would train tonight. I know he’s worried, and I can’t help but think of how much more worried he’d be if he saw the way Ryn and I are smiling at each other now.
* * *
—
“Close your eyes,” my father says later that night. “Follow the sound of my voice.”
I’m standing on a branch on one of the tallest trees in the forest. The sky is dark, the wind still, the stars just beginning to emerge.
We’ve been coming to the forest for as long as I remember, training in secret. It’s exhausting for me, but I know it’s exhausting for my father, too—every hour of sleep I miss to train, he misses as well. Every time I can’t get to the place he wants me to reach, he worries as much as I do.
“Are you ready?” His voice floats past.
I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. My lungs press against my ribs. I see Ryn before me, then Zo looking at me with anger in her eyes. But I clear my mind, until I feel like I don’t exist. When I was younger, it took me entire days to get to this place, to think of nothing at all. First breath, then body, my father would say. Let the world in and listen to what it’s telling you. Listen, then let it go.
The branch sways with the weight of my body. I’m high above the earth, but I keep my eyes closed, feeling the pulse of the darkness around me.
“I’m ready,” I say.
I trace in my mind the space I’m in, the outline of my body against the sky. I take a step forward. The branch shakes beneath me. I spread my arms out for balance, but it’s not enough. My feet slip. I fall through the air and land hard on my back.
My father stands above me, staring down. “You’re not focused,” he says sharply.
“Yes I am,” I say, my jaw clenched.
“Not enough,” he says. “Get up. Do it again.”
I push myself off the ground, brushing the dirt from my legs. I climb the tree once again, going back to where I started. I close my eyes, determined. The bark cuts into the soles of my feet, but I barely feel it. I imagine spinning from branch to branch, picture myself flying. I will my body to move forward, but it stays frozen in place.
“What’s wrong?” My father sounds far away.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, but I can’t slow the beat of my heart. I focus my gaze on the air in front of me. The wind rushes past, threatening to push me over. I drop to the ground, standing in front of my father, unable to meet his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about what it would be like if things were easier,” I say slowly. “What everything would be like if I weren’t human.”
I’ve never said this to him before. I’ve barely let myself think it.
“But you are human, Li,” he says.
“What if I don’t make officer?” I ask quietly. “What happens then?”
It’s a subject we’ve avoided, even though it’s all I think about.
“You can’t think like that, Li,” he says.
I close my eyes. “How can I not?”
“Because you have no choice.”
I take a breath, holding it deep in my lungs.
“Li,” he says, and I look up. He puts his hand over his heart. “You have to push through whatever it is that’s holding you back. I know this is difficult, but you can’t give up now.”
I look up to the sky through the leaves of the trees. It was all so much easier before, back when there was nothing to distract me, when I didn’t know Ryn existed.
“I do want to make it,” I say. “It’s all I want.” I close my eyes as I say this, hoping it sounds true.
“Then do the work,” my father bids, motioning to the forest around me.
I wish I could tell him about the other things I want, things from the world that have nothing to do with making officer. We’ve always worked together as a team; we’ve never had secrets between us before. But I can’t tell my father how I’m feeling. He’d say there was too much on the line, that the risks are too high. And maybe he’d be right.
I climb the tree, my muscles tense with concentration. Sweat beads on the back of my neck. My human mother carried me like a seed inside her, but it is my father, here, who taught me to survive.
I take another breath; I let everything go.
“Li,” my father calls up to me. “Jump.”
I do as he says. I jump.
My hands reach for the branch above me. My body is a thousand moving parts working together to carry me through the air. The world is a blur around me. I spin through the sky, faster and faster, until my mind is clear.
I land on the ground, triumphant.
On the morning of our first practice sim, our unit meets in front of our simulation station. Some unknown adventure exists beyond those doors, and even though I know it’s only a simulation—it’s not real—my heart beats faster in anticipation. By the time I arrive, the rest of my unit is already here. Braxon leans against the side of the station, its chrome surface gleaming. Nava pulls her hair into a ponytail. Ranthu shifts from one foot to the other, his body tall, lanky. Akia crouches on her heels, tightening the laces on her boots. Ryn and Mirabae stand together. Ryn stretches his arms above his head. A smile crosses his lips as he sees me walk up. I’m too nervous to smile back.
Mirabae flashes me a look, biting her lip, and I can tell how anxious she is. Before I can say anything to her, Magister Sethra walks up to the station and we shift into line before her.
“Attention, Unit Fifteen,” she says. She pauses, looking us over, her gaze falling on me. “As commendation for her high score on the academic exam, Cadet Li will be leading you through your mission today.”
Everyone turns to look at me. It takes a moment for Sethra’s words to sink in. I feel a rush of pride, until I glance over at Braxon, who’s looking me up and down, his mouth set in a thin line. I can tell he expected to be leader, and he’s used to getting what he wants. My fight with Zo flashes through my mind and I shake it away.
“Cadet Li, Magister’s favorite,” Braxon says quietly. He smiles like he’s joking, but there’s a clear edge to his voice. I decide to ignore him, turning to the rest of the unit instead.
“When we get in there,” I say, “communication will be our most important tactic.”
“How do you know what’s most important if we don’t even know what the sim is yet?” Braxon asks coolly.
“No matter what the sim is, we have to talk to one another,” I say, meeting his gaze. “We have to be in this together, or we all fail.”
Braxon rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything more. He’s jealous, I tell myself, but he’ll listen to me once we get in there. He has to follow my lead, or he’ll risk failing the sim.
Magister Sethra turns and presses her hand against the door. We stand behind her in an uneasy silence, none of us knowing what to expect.
The door to the station lifts up. Bright light surrounds us as we move forward. The room is empty, the ceiling and walls an incandescent white.
“It’s like we’re on th
e moon,” Nava murmurs.
Magister Sethra leads us into the center of the room.
“In this sim, you will be placed on a hostile planet where a rebellion has formed against our presence,” she says. “Your orders are to capture the rebel leader, thereby defusing the rebellion itself.”
I listen to her carefully, searching her words for clues, realizing quickly that my biggest challenge as leader is that I won’t know what to do until we’re in the sim.
“You are to avoid casualties at all cost, but remember—sometimes a few must be sacrificed for the greater good. You will be graded not only on the tactics you employ, but also on the speed with which you complete this mission.”
Anxious energy fills me, rushing through my veins.
Without another word, Magister Sethra moves to the edge of the room. The lights go down. The walls turn black. When the lights come back up, we’re standing in the desert, red sand swirling harshly around us. Our uniforms shift from silver to red, a kind of built-in camouflage.
“This is so cool,” Akia says, holding her arms out in front of her.
I look out across the desert, trying to get a sense of where we are. The sun beats mercilessly down on us. There are no caves, no trees; there’s nowhere for us to take cover. A settlement of tents sits in the distance, scattered across the sand. This is the rebel encampment. This is our target.
At my feet are our supplies. I sort through them quickly. There are flares, canisters of gas, protective masks, weapons I’ve never seen before, let alone handled. Buried underneath everything is a small pile of guns. My stomach twists, but there’s no time for me to stop and think. I toss a gun, a mask, and a canister out to everyone, keeping a set for myself. I sling my gun across my shoulder and pull the mask down so it hangs around my neck. Everyone looks at me expectantly. I take a deep breath.
“We’re going to split into groups,” I say, hoping I sound authoritative. “The first group is going to scout the encampment. The second will hang back as reserves. I’ll head up the first group. I need two of you to come with me. Any volunteers?”
The Last Girl on Earth Page 7