I turn my head and Luca stands over me. “It’s time to disembark.”
“Already?” I mumble, pulling on my bag, now pressed flat onto my lap.
“It was forty-five minutes.”
I squint my eyes and take in the small space. When more clear-headed, I stand and follow him from the transport, still a little unsure of where the time went. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t asleep.
Luca pilots me through the port and navigates us around several groups of people. At least he knows where we’re going. My heart crashes against my chest, and strangely the air feels thick and difficult to inhale.
Luca turns to me as I lag behind and signals me forward. When I get there, he takes my bag. “The atmosphere is slightly different than Earth,” he says, all business. “Everyone has a little trouble adjusting at first. But by the end of the day, you’ll be fine.”
We stride toward a broad wall of glass windows. Outside are ground transports and a scattering of people. But beyond the road is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. The Tahm Range glistens in the sun, and below the mountain peaks is the skyline of Primaro.
Dad was right: the city does perfectly blend with the organic beauty of Arcadia. Plant life weaves through silver and white buildings designated for housing and office space. A few skyscrapers tower above the clusters of small- and medium-sized structures.
We exit through glass doors, and I’m met with a rush of warm air. My sweater quickly becomes too hot, but if my crystal is still glowing, I don’t want anyone to notice—especially Luca. So, I leave the thick garment on.
Luca steps ahead to the curb and raises his hand. A few seconds later, a small vehicle pulls up.
“Our ride is here,” Luca says as the door opens.
He leans in and places my bag in the middle of the seat and gestures me inside. When I’m settled, Luca slides in from the opposite side. He swipes at a small screen on the inside wall and then presses his hand to the computer. The screen glows green and beeps and then the vehicle drives forward.
“How long is the trip?” I mumble.
“Not long,” he snaps, probably annoyed by my lack of desire to be around him. Luca taps on his Connect and a hologram pops up. He keeps his attention on the display as he texts words I can’t see. Probably reporting to Hammond about my sour disposition.
I turn my attention to outside the window as we depart from the port. Up close, the city is even more stunning. Not too far up ahead, I glimpse how the builders wrapped plant life across the buildings in intricate patterns, perfectly melding the organic with inorganic. The city is small enough that many people can walk to their destinations or take public transportation. The streets are busy with pedestrians and a few self-driving vehicles, like the one we’re riding in now. A sleek commuter train zips off in the distance. Even a white sanitation bot hovers over the sidewalk and scans for trash and debris.
Our transport takes us deeper into the city until, after about a fifteen-minute journey, the vehicle stops in front of a tall building. Not a skyscraper, but at least twenty stories high.
My door slides away, and I grab my bag.
“Is this it?” I ask Luca over the top of the vehicle.
Luca nods and motions me to the entrance. “I need to be at a meeting soon. So this will be quick.”
“Fine by me.” I clutch my bag and follow him as I gaze up at the building and sky. Instead of the blue on Earth, the sky on Arcadia has a cyan tint. I’m pretty sure Dad told me once, but I probably wasn’t paying much attention.
I follow Luca inside, where he has already used the call button for the elevator. The doors slide open, and we take the cab to floor seven.
I know Dad showed me photos of our on-planet unit, but I wasn’t paying much attention then either, since I didn’t want to go. Now I wish I had.
We exit the elevator and end at a door marked “740.”
“Well, here you go,” Luca says, hesitating to meet my eyes. “Place your thumb on the lock pad. That’s your key.”
I do, and above the pad a small light shines green as the lock beeps. The door clicks and I enter my new home.
“Hammond or I will be in contact, if need be.” Then he turns and walks toward the elevator.
I swing my attention to him. “Wait. That’s it? I have no idea what I’m doing here.” Ugh, maybe I should have been nicer to him.
Luca spins on his heels but keeps walking backward. “Your roommate will fill you in on everything.”
“Roommate?” I turn and face the opening again, and inside is a studio apartment. I sweep my gaze around and take in a set of bunk beds and a small kitchenette. “Dad and I had a full apartment provided!”
Luca shrugs and turns away again. “The situation has changed. That apartment has been re-allocated.” He disappears inside the elevator while I’m still in the hall, now alone.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. Re-allocated? Meaning: Dad’s gone and I’m no longer valuable. After a beat, I open my lids and gasp when I see a young girl with dark skin and hair standing in the doorway. Although her face is young and fresh, something about her eyes appears much older.
“You shouldn’t just stand out there,” she says.
“Where’d you come from?”
“A girl goes to the bathroom, comes out, and has a roommate now.” She gestures me inside.
I exhale slowly through clenched teeth and then follow her suggestion. Once inside, I scan the small space again. A few dirty dishes are stacked precariously in the kitchenette’s sink, and my forehead wrinkles.
“Don’t mind those,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
My lips thin into a frown and my stomach sinks. Hammond has apparently taken everything from me and there's not anything I can do about it.
“Let me give you the tour,” she says and points to the bunk. “Bedroom. You get the top.”
Great. I would’ve loved that when I was ten. Absently, I twist Mom’s ring and gnaw the inside of my lip.
Quickly she directs me around the open room. “Kitchen, office, living room, bathroom—and we’re back at the bedroom again.”
The “office” consists of two thin chairs and a fold-down desk with two laptop computers called DataPorts, while the “living room” has two small, padded chairs and a media screen affixed to the wall. Next is another door, which must be the bathroom. The whole space can’t be more than two hundred square feet.
“I’m Irene, Irene Parks.” The girl holds out her hand to me.
I reposition my bag on my shoulder and reach out to her. Irene clasps my hand and shakes it with more vigor than I’d expect.
“And you are?” she says and releases me.
“Oh . . . I’m Cassio—Cassi.” I decide not to give her my last name. From her demeanor, I’m not sure she knows yet, and since I’m not familiar with her, I don’t want her feeling sorry for me.
Irene eyes my bag. “You can put that down, Cassi.”
“Oh, yeah.” I dump the bag next to the bunks.
“You got other stuff coming?”
I nod. “But I’m not sure how I’m going to fit everything in here.”
“Then you’ll need to pay to store it.”
“Pay?” Dad always took care of the finances. I have no clue what I’m doing here.
Irene sighs. “You know . . . like CosmicCoin.”
“Of course. Where do I access my account?” Whether or not Hammond has transferred my dad’s funds is another issue, though.
She gestures with her head toward the DataPort. “That should be connected to your ID and thumbprint. You can log on and check.” She raises a brow. “This was all discussed in orientation . . . were you asleep?’
“Just overwhelmed.”
“Well, I get that. What’s your job assignment?”
I stare at her, speechless. Assignment? Sure, I’ve been training in planet terraforming, but it takes years to learn everything. And Arcadia already has Dad’s development
plan.
She clicks her tongue. “You better get it together fast. We’re all expected to pull our weight around here. I work in the tech lab at Extra Solar. If you don’t figure out a solution, Hammond will have you confined.”
The hair at the base of my neck stands on end. As Richard Foster’s daughter, I was never one of the passengers who risked being jailed for failing to secure a job. But now I’m no one. Anger mixed with terror churns in my gut. How did any of this happen? How could my life be such a mess, and no one really cares? I press down the thoughts because if I don't, I might explode.
“I’m just tired,” I explain with a faint shrug. “I haven’t slept in a few days.”
“Well, your luxury suite awaits.” She indicates the top bunk. “And I have errands to do anyway.”
Irene grabs a messenger bag off a hook by the door. “See you later, Cassi.”
I exhale deep and long with exhaustion and then climb the ladder to the top bunk, where I quickly bury myself under the comforter. I twist toward the wall and pull out my pendant and rub the surface between my fingers. It’s no longer glowing and just looks like a regular crystal, albeit an unusual color.
How am I supposed to uncover anything about Dad if I’m not sure what’s even going on around here? As I hold the crystal, a sensation of warmth and safety permeates me. Maybe this is what Dad meant when he said the planet made him feel closer to Mom. My eyelids droop, and I drift into dreams of a blue-green world.
Chapter 7
Ilog onto my computer and check my account. Apparently, Dad had prepared for the possibility of something like this happening. Without me knowing, he had set up a year’s worth of CosmicCoin in an account under my name. The sum is a modest amount, enough to cover my basic expenses. I’ll need a job in the next couple weeks, though, simply to pay for any extra needs.
I stare at the number and sigh. Even with Dad gone, he did the best he could to make sure I’d be okay. And the funds mean that I won’t have to worry for a while about being sent back to Earth against my will.
I log on to check the status of my belongings. I use a small amount of my funds to have Dad’s and my long-term stuff put into storage for now, at least until I can figure out what to do with it. But the tracking number is nonexistent. I send a help message to find out what's going on.
On top of that, my personal items haven’t arrived at the dorm yet, either. I tap the link to see what’s taking so long.
Arrival delayed. Expected delivery time unknown.
“Well, that’s encouraging,” I mutter. At least I brought most of my clothes in my bag, and Irene let me borrow a few toiletries.
“As long as you pay me back,” she had said.
Before I forget, I transfer currency into her account. Don’t want my roommate mad at me the second day I’m here.
I log off and close the DataPort’s lid. I’ve been so used to fancy computers with glass touchscreens that this basic model feels positively ancient. But I guess the Board wouldn’t stay in budget if they provided top-notch equipment to the planet’s workforce. And it will do for now. I should be grateful the computer was here in the first place.
I rise and study the cramped room, pinching my lips together. Irene is at her job already, so I can’t have her show me around the city. Well, standing around here does nothing for me either. I might as well use the time while unemployed to see if any rumors are circling about the explosion or Dad’s disappearance. People should be talking about the incident, I would think.
I grab a pear from a bowl of fruit on the kitchenette counter and head out the door.
For the last time, I check for any messages from Max. Still nothing. What happened to him? I want to be mad, but part of me knows whatever went down was not his fault. He would have been here for me if he could. Hammond has to be involved.
What’s her problem? My dad was the one who made it possible for her to even bring people to this planet. I have no clue why she’d be treating me so poorly, no matter what their differences.
I push the thoughts away since they’ll only distract me from my goals.
Out on the street, I inhale a deep breath. Amazingly, the air feels good. Clean. Luca was right that I’d adjust to the atmosphere quickly. Most of the air on Earth has grown bad from pollution, especially in the cities. I was lucky Mom and Dad made sure we kept our home in the country where the air remained decent. But even with that, I’m not sure I knew what I was missing.
The air on Arcadia fills me with life as if it’s strengthening me. I throw back my shoulders and lift my chin. Now, if I only knew where to start.
As I scan my new surroundings, pedestrians hurry past me, probably to work. A silver airship cuts across the sky to transport either people or supplies to another part of Primaro. A few blocks over I spot the tallest building, and I can only assume it’s the Board’s headquarters. Many of the other metal and white clad structures are labeled with corporate names. Some I’m familiar with, others I’m not.
Irene did mention that Extra Solar was only a thirty-minute walk from the dorm and she didn’t want to waste her currency on paying for the train. That’s why she left so early this morning.
The street is busy with pedestrians and as I scan their faces, a person across the street catches my eye. He stands a few inches taller than the rest of the people, and unlike the pedestrians, he’s standing still, as if he were a river rock allowing rushing water to flow past him. His hair is nearly black, and he stares my way with dark eyes. The same boy from the bay. The one who ran away.
My heart thuds so loudly that I'm positive anyone on the street can hear it. The skin under my crystal grows warm. Don’t be glowing. Don’t be glowing. I want to look, but if I take my attention from him, he could bolt.
“You have information,” I whisper to myself and start off in his direction.
He remains still for a beat; but as I check the street for vehicles and step off the curb, he does precisely as I predicted. I pick up the pace and don’t let him out of my sight.
No chance you’re getting away this time.
Newfound energy races through my veins as if I were a track star. As if running for sport was what I was born to do.
My feet pound across the street to the other sidewalk as I watch the boy take a passage between two buildings. My mind abruptly flashes with new information. Without a second thought, I tear into the building in front of me, nearly tripping over a sanitation bot. There’s an exit out the back, and I can head him off. I have no idea how I know, but I’m not going to question it.
I weave through the people inside with ease and follow the map in my mind toward the rear of the building. I slam my hand to the lock and push the door open. Using a final burst of energy, I surge outside, and the boy skids to a stop right in front of me.
His eyes widen, and before he has the chance to escape, I grab his arm.
“Stop running,” I growl, panting for breath.
The boy looks at the spot at my neck where the pendant hides under my shirt. Not letting him go, I glance down at the glowing gem and then back at him.
His shoulders rise and fall as he regains his breath, too. But he doesn’t fight or attempt to escape. It’s almost as if his feet are frozen in place. He’s tall with a broad chest and shoulders, and I’m instantly overcome by his strength despite his inaction. I know he could break free if he wanted to.
As I clutch him, my hand grows warm, just like the crystal’s sensation. My chest tightens with emotion. Sadness, fear—terror. But the feelings are not mine.
I choke back tears and grip him tighter. I’m not sure, though, if keeping a hold is for comfort or to keep him from escaping.
“You—you know what happened on the ship,” I force myself to say while pushing away the unwanted emotions.
But he doesn’t answer.
I lock onto his eyes as the dark irises seem to swirl with cyan.
“Tell me!” I shout. “You know what happened to my father!”
The boy’s brows wrinkle with concern, and for some reason I’m certain it’s for me, for my dad. “Your father was a good man.” His voice is deep and rich and curiously filled with song. At least, that’s the best way for me to describe his speech. The melody behind his words seeps into my very being.
The space around us warps, causing me to close my eyes to center myself. But when I do, my mind transports to another place. Memories that aren't mine flood my brain. A woman with a soft smile and cyan eyes comforting me in her tender arms. I sink into them until just as fast as the first came, another memory replaces it. I run with my friends through the forest, laughing without a care in the world. Joy, sadness, pain, loss, wonder. Thousands of feelings and experiences latch on and become part of me.
Clicking steps echo behind me and rip my attention from him, and without thinking, I release the boy’s arm. The rush of memories halts, but their imprint remains. A blond girl in a blue dress, close to my age, approaches from ten feet away. I turn from her and stretch for the boy again, but he’s halfway down the walkway, and with him, the intense energy I had experienced in his presence. There’s no way I can chase him down again.
The girl speeds up and stops by my side. “Are you all right?”
I point toward the boy who’s still in sight. “He got away.”
She looks the way I’m pointing and turns to me, eyebrow arched. “Who got away?”
“The boy who was just here,” I say, raising my voice. I glance back toward the walkway to find he’s disappeared.
“Um . . .” The girl, who stands several inches shorter than me, gnaws the inside of her lip and blinks her eyes nervously before saying, “No one was with you. I could see you from all the way back there.” She gestures to the way she came. Then she brings her hand to my forehead. “At orientation, the speaker said that in rare cases we might feel a little sick for a few days. Maybe you should go home and lie down.”
I slap her hand away, still reeling from whatever just happened with that boy. “I don’t want to lie down.”
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