The Good for Nothings

by Danielle Banas

  It was a miracle Elio’s body hadn’t already given up after such a long glitch. I reached for his limp hand, looping my little finger around his. He shouldn’t have been so human, but he was. Another miracle. I looked behind me, where Anders was keeping vigil against the wall. We were alive. The key was here. This planet was full of miracles tonight.

  Surely one more wouldn’t be too much to ask.

  “Okay, I’m down here. What am I doing?” Wren called over the comm system. “Please don’t tell me this is going to blow up my ship.”

  “Not if you do it right. Yellow lever, second panel to the left of the door. Do you see it?”

  I heard her gulp. “Yeah…”

  “Pull it out from the wall, then push it up toward the ceiling. In three … two…”

  “Wait, wait! I’m not ready!”

  “One!”

  I flicked a switch next to a row of dark monitors, cutting all internal communications. All electricity that wasn’t absolutely necessary to operate the ship was now wired into the control panel beneath my fingertips. The metal surface grew hot with power. A row of green lights blinked in time with my rapid heartbeat. Go, go, go.

  Against my better judgment, I looked at Elio’s diagnostic scan.

  Memory Core: 27 percent functioning

  23 percent functioning

  17 percent

  8 percent

  I peered over my shoulder again to Anders. “Plug your ears.”

  Then I slammed my palm onto the screen of my comm link.

  A sound like a small bomb going off came from the engines. With flames shooting from the control panel, I sent every watt of electricity that the Starchaser possessed directly into Elio’s brain.

  * * *

  “My … my name is Elio. I like … I like…” He pulled a blanket tight around his shoulders as he curled up on my bed. “I can’t remember what I like right now. I just wish I could sleep.”

  I shut my cabin door and joined him on the bed. The universal time clock on the wall said that it was well into the early hours of the morning. Ordinarily, I would have hit the mattress and passed out instantly, but at the moment there was no chance of me making my mind shut down. With every blink I saw my hand pressed against my comm link, sending not one, not two, but three giant pulses of electricity from the ship into Elio to jump-start his memory core. I saw Elio flopping in the co-pilot’s chair, unresponsive, as if he were already gone. I saw Wren, sniffling as she returned from the engine room and gripped Elio’s hand. She collapsed in her pilot’s chair, and even though she didn’t meet my eyes, I noticed hers were red and puffy. I saw Anders picking him up gently once he finally started to stir, cradling his tiny breaking body while he brought him up to the residential quarters to rest.

  No one was celebrating finding Teolia’s key. No one had said much of anything since the engines rumbled and Wren declared over the intercom that we were clear for takeoff. Just before her voice cut out, I heard her start to blow her nose.

  After Elio regained consciousness, his memory core’s capacity had climbed all the way to 54 percent. It plunged again for a minute, but now it was back on the rise. I checked the results of his latest scan on my comm. Memory Core: 62 percent.

  Not great. But good enough for now.

  Through the porthole above the bed, I watched Cadrolla grow smaller and smaller behind us, the little planet a marbled swirl of bright blues, vibrant greens, and muted pinks. Beautiful and unassuming—that is, until you got too close.

  Without meaning to, I pressed my thumb against the back of my neck, touching the lumpy tracking chip that the warden had given us before we left Ironside. A reminder of his omnipresence. Was he watching us right now, monitoring us? Did he know we almost died?

  At the foot of the bed, Elio pushed himself up onto his knees and pressed his palms to the porthole glass.

  “One,” he counted. “Two. Three.”

  “If you’re counting the stars, you’re going to be there a while.”

  He refused to turn away from the depths of space. “Maybe not. We don’t know how much longer I have left.”

  “Don’t.” I squeezed my nails into my palms until the pain of it distracted me from my anger. “Don’t say things like that. You’re going to be fine.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, Carla, but—”

  His mouth snapped shut. Across the room, the air filtration system whirred, filling the cabin with a weak breeze that smelled like wet cardboard. Finally, it cut off with a clunk, and a painful silence flooded the bedroom.

  “My name,” I whispered, “is Cora.”

  “I knew that,” Elio said hurriedly.

  “Did you?” My voice grew high and tight with panic. “Do you even remember where we were today? Teolia’s key?” I prompted when he said nothing.

  “The … key…?”

  “For the treasure. To pay Evelina back. To get you a new body.” I hopped off the bed, scrolling through his diagnostic tests on my comm. “You’re getting worse. You’re forgetting more, and it isn’t coming back.”

  “But it will. It always does. Look, I remember now. There was a—a pig, right? And … and water! You hate water!” He stood on the bed, beeping desperately.

  I’d never been so happy to hear anyone talk about my greatest fear. “Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that that was the longest glitch you’ve ever had.” I swiped my fingers across my dirty comm screen, searching the net. We had two more keys to find. We needed a plan, and we needed one fast. There had to be something useful on all those message boards Elio had read through. Some hint, some clue …

  “Cora.” Elio’s tinny voice came from beside me. I looked down, noticing his floppy ears wiggle slightly before falling still. “Maybe … it isn’t worth it.”

  “What isn’t worth it?”

  “The keys. The treasure.”

  “No, you’re still not remembering correctly. You—”

  “I remember enough. You could have gotten hurt. And Wren. And Anders. You all can die easier than I can.”

  “So? If we don’t get the keys, we end up back in Ironside, probably forever. Whether we use them to help you or not, we don’t have a choice but to keep pushing on.” I located the message boards Elio had scoured and started scrolling. Pages and pages, thousands of threads. This would take me days to sort through. “I’d really appreciate it if you could get back on board.”

  He didn’t reply, just turned on his little heel and climbed back onto the bed with his face pressed to the porthole. Fine. He could be angry all he wanted; I was just doing what was best for the both of us, and he was too busy being noble to see it.

  “Hey,” I said quietly. “Do you remember when I was little and we had campouts in my room? We’d pretend to roast sugar snaps over your flashlight because we didn’t want to risk starting a real fire and—”

  “Waking Evelina up,” he finished. Still, he didn’t look at me. “How could I forget? Actually, that’s a poor choice of words.” He laughed, one tiny beep that sounded more like a sob. “Things were easier back then.”

  I patted him on the head before walking to the door. “I’ll be right back. I lost your fudge on Cadrolla, but I’m going to the galley to see if Wren has ingredients to make you a milkshake to smell. Chocolate, okay?”

  Finally, he turned around. “With a cherry on top?”

  “Of course. See? You’re back to your old self already. I knew you’d be fine.”

  But for how long? Elio deserved a good life, full of milkshakes and friends, one where he didn’t constantly have to worry about disappearing. He deserved so much more than I could give him.

  No matter what, I vowed I would get those keys. I would take that treasure to Cruz and Evelina, even if I had to pry it from Anders’s and Wren’s cold, dead—

  “Wren!”

  She hip-checked me just as my cabin door slid shut. I thrust out my hands to brace myself as I was pitched against the corridor wall, cold metal biting into my pa
lms.

  “Oh, Cora! Sorry! I was just coming to see you. How’s Elio?”

  “Fine. He’s fine.” I massaged a point on my wrist where I’d bent it funny. “I mean, all things considered. He’s resting now. He’ll recover.”

  I hoped.

  “Good. Great, actually.” Wren glanced at my cabin door like she thought Elio might open it and waddle out. A startling realization struck me: Wren really did think she and Elio were friends.

  After another hopeful glance at the door, she cleared her throat. “I also wanted to tell you that all systems are back to functioning as designed. And if you’re wondering why a quarter of my left eyebrow is missing, that’s because of the explosion that you caused in the engine room.” But she was grinning as she said it, pointing out a bald patch on the outer corner of her eye. “I think I can turn the look into a new fashion trend.”

  “No offense, but I don’t think I’ll be joining you on that one.”

  “None taken.” She laughed. “You want to come down to the rec room with me? I’m going to marathon some reruns of Matchmakers Anonymous. I’m a sucker for bad reality dating shows.”

  “Thanks, but I told Elio I’d get him a milkshake. To smell,” I clarified when she lifted her non-burnt eyebrow.

  “I thought he couldn’t smell.”

  “He thinks he can. Honestly, it’s easier to let him believe it.”

  “Okey-dokey, then. I’ll see you later.” Reaching forward, she adjusted a button on my flight suit I’d accidentally put into the wrong hole. “Get some rest. You look like death.”

  “Wow. Thanks.”

  “Just saying. Oh! We need to have a meeting with Anders. Figure out where to fly next.”

  “Already working on it, but yeah, I’ll find him.”

  “Splendid.” The low lights cast shadows on her shoulders while she walked away, projecting onto the grimy walls of the ship. For a moment, she looked like she had wings; in the gloom of the corridor, her silhouette had stretched into a bird preparing to take flight.

  And speaking of birds …

  “Wren, wait!”

  She spun around.

  “Um…” I didn’t want to think about the birds, because then I’d have to think about the water. “How are you doing?”

  She looked at me like I had just announced plans to marry the porci.

  “The birds,” I said. “In the cave. They had faces. For a second, it looked like you recognized them and I thought that maybe … you’d want to talk about it?”

  Wren crossed her arms. Spun around again. “I don’t,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Excuse me? “Wren, hang on a second.”

  But her footsteps just sped up. Around the corner of the residential quarters, past a maintenance closet with the door hanging off its hinges. She skirted around it and booked it toward the ramp spiraling down to the rec room.

  I caught her arm before she could get too far ahead. “Hey. Look, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be nice.”

  She pulled out of my grip, huffing. Her lip was trembling. Just like in the cockpit after Elio glitched, she looked like she was about to cry.

  “Good night, Cora,” she said hoarsely.

  I could see her aura brightening the corridor. Terror, exhaustion, sadness. All bad things. And yet I didn’t stop. Tonight I had been chased, drenched, burned, almost lost my best friend. I was so mentally and physically exhausted that something inside of me snapped. I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut.

  “Good night? That’s it? You know, for someone who keeps preaching honesty and teamwork, you sure don’t follow through.”

  She pivoted. An aqua flash lit up the air around us as her sadness multiplied. “I said good night, Cora.”

  “At least tell me you put the key in a safe place. Where is it?”

  Yes, I was one hundred percent fishing for information. A twinge of regret pained my chest when I thought about how much I would still have to deceive her, but I pushed it down, just like I pushed all that electricity into Elio not an hour before. I had a job to do. Friendship—or whatever Wren and I had cultivated in the depths of that cave on Cadrolla—wasn’t important.

  Panic as chilling as tendrils of ice filled the corridor. “Oh. I—yes. It’s very safe. Obviously.” Her voice sped up. “I, uh, I contacted the warden while you were in your cabin with Elio to tell him about the key, and he demanded that we keep it hidden at all times. So that’s where it is. Hidden, you know?” Her gaze flicked up to the ceiling. “At all times.”

  “Right. And where exactly is it hiding at all times? I would find it and ask it, because I’m sure it would give me a more detailed answer than you are, but as you so eloquently pointed out, it’s hiding. At all times.”

  “Um … yeah … It’s … you know. Just in my … room?”

  “In your room?”

  “Yep,” Wren said. “My cabin’s a mess, so it’s a good spot for something to stay … hidden.”

  “At all times. So you’ve said.”

  “Yeah…” Her eyes shifted down the corridor. The lights around us buzzed, their green glow reflecting off our skin, making Wren look like she was about to puke. “Are you, um, are you really sure you don’t want to watch Matchmakers Anonymous with me? Elio can come too.”

  Shifty eyes, stammering, no consistency in speech. She was clearly hiding something. I could choose to be a good “friend” and trust that whatever she was concealing wasn’t that big of a deal, but I wasn’t that kind.

  I wasn’t even really her friend.

  “Actually, that sounds really nice,” I told her. “Thanks. Let me go grab his milkshake and we’ll be right down.”

  I watched her walk toward the rec room, footsteps quick, shoulders hunched, until the outline of her body was obscured by the shadows.

  “Or not,” I said to the dead, recycled air. I stood against the wall for a few minutes, replaying our weird conversation and hoping that maybe it would sound more normal as the time ticked on. No such luck. Still weird. Still up to something.

  “You know…,” came an amused voice from behind me. “Staring into space is often thought of as the first sign of madness on my planet.”

  “You don’t say.” Turning, I was greeted by the always bizarre sight of Anders grinning. I nodded to the nearest row of portholes lining the ship’s exterior wall, where stars glinted millions of miles away like shattered glass. “Looks like we’re screwed, then.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “You said ‘staring into space,’ and space is right outside the window and … you know what? It was a bad joke. Not important. What are you eating?”

  He pulled out a little ball hidden inside his cheek. An orange hunk of candy attached to a stick.

  “Lollipops?” I made a grab for it, but he stuck it back in his mouth. “You like Earthan lollipops?”

  “No,” he sputtered. “No. I don’t. It was the only thing in the galley. Wren ate everything else.”

  “C’mon, Andy, admit it. You like sweets from Earth.”

  A flash of disgust crossed his face, but still he bit the sucker in half, chewed, and swallowed. The sharp aroma of oranges filled the space between us. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

  “As much as I’d love to embarrass you, you’re in the clear. I’m dealing with more important issues at the moment.”

  “Like?”

  “Like…” I tracked the distance between us and the wide, spiral ramp leading down to the rec room. There were no doors at the top or the bottom, but as long as Wren had the volume cranked up on the net screen there was little chance of us being overheard.

  “I think Wren’s hiding something.”

  “Interesting.” Anders dug into his pocket, producing two more lollipops. He didn’t offer me one; he shoved both into his mouth instead. “What makes you say that?”

  “I was asking her what she did with Teolia’s key and she started stuttering and got all weird about it. Said that s
he talked to the warden and he wants it kept hidden at all times. She just kept repeating that over and over, and then there was this whole thing with the birds and—okay, what?”

  He tilted his head. “What, what?”

  “You’re looking at me all squinty-eyed.”

  “Because I’m thinking.”

  “You look constipated, but please, think away.”

  Anders tapped his palm against the wall, a rough beat that had no rhythm to it, only force. The pipes lining the corridor shook as he pounded away. I leaned against the wall beside him, feeling the vibrations rattle along my spine. I pulled my hair up into the highest, tightest ponytail I could manage. Maybe the rush of blood to my scalp would help me think better. Was Wren being honest when she told me the location of the key? Why would she get so nervous if she were telling the truth?

  Unless she wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  Maybe she and I were more similar than I cared to admit.

  Next to my head, Anders’s fist clenched.

  “She wasn’t in contact with the warden,” he said through his teeth.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I was in contact with the warden.”

  My eyes went wide. “You—?”

  “Don’t go jumping down my throat. We share DNA and I needed to inform him about the key. I’ll have you know, he didn’t even say thank you. Not that I was expecting it.”

  “So Wren lied?”

  “Most likely.” His tapping started again. “You can’t be surprised. She’s a self-proclaimed thief. I’m sure she has some ulterior motive.”

  Ulterior motive. How ironic.

  “I’m a thief too,” I reminded him. “Elio’s a thief. You’re—well, I don’t know what you are.”

  “Charming? Cuddly? I also have three toes on my left foot. Now isn’t the time to list my shortcomings, Cora.”

  “Wait—three toes?”

  “Not. The. Time.” He pushed off the wall. “I’ll keep an eye on Wren. Don’t worry about it.”

  Don’t worry, he said. But of course, whenever you try not to do something, you exponentially increase your desire to do it. And so I worried.