The Lost Star Chart: A lost orbits novel
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Lost Star Chart

A lost orbits novel

Jeannette Bedard

Copyright © 2024 by Jeannette Bedard

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover art by Cover art by Ronnie Jensen (www.tegnemaskin.no)

Typography by Jake Caleb (www.jcalebdesign.com)

Edited by Charlie Knight (cknightwrites.com)

And Sally Glover (www.sallycglover.com)

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Jeannette Bedard

Chapter 1

Darla — Present day

A pillar of greasy black smoke rose in the windless sky, carrying the acrid stench of roasted electronics and charred plastic. The wisps that reached me made my throat burn—I should have worn a respirator. I let out a ragged sigh. It was too late now, just like it was too late now for so many things.

The crash site of my once jaunty yellow shuttle painted the only colour on the bleak landscape of this world, a planet whose name I’d already forgotten. The familiar hum of that shuttle used to bring me solace, a reminder that I could always escape. Those days were gone. Things had changed. A lump formed in my throat, threatening to bring on tears.

I hated change.

“It’s time to move on,” I muttered to myself as I tried to compartmentalize my foolish sentimentality. Everything would be different from this moment on.

I sighed, attempting to be inconspicuous, and leaned against the rock next to me. They would be along shortly—whoever ‘they’ were. I glanced around for a better hiding spot.

Dusty and cracked, my surroundings offered little. Jagged gravel and grey sky stretched out to the horizon in all directions. This was the dullest planet I’d ever set foot on. No wonder the name of this place never stuck in my brain. My current hiding spot was the best option, so I settled in to wait. It didn’t take long.

Within a few minutes, a layer of sand—or worse, ash—had made its way inside my mouth. It coated my tongue, teeth, and throat, and it tasted awful. I hated this world almost as much as I hated sacrificing my shuttle.

“If I looked up ‘hellhole,’ I’d find a picture of this place,” I said to no one. Yeah, I tended to talk to myself, because I made better company than most of the morons I came across.

But I had to admit the fire was on me—I’d set it as part of my ruse. I’d even landed hard enough to crumple the port side of the fuselage. My back was going to hurt for days from that piece of deception, but the idiots trying to kill me needed to be convinced they’d succeeded.

As if on cue, a second shuttle dropped out of the sky and headed toward my wreckage.

“And here they are.” I hunkered closer to my rock.

I recognized the shuttle’s make. It was a midsize, midbudget model designed to be unremarkable. This one didn’t even have its call sign painted on it—against Protectorate regulations, but this far off the beaten path, Protectorate regulations meant little.

Upon landing, two heavily armed people emerged from the shuttle. They searched through the smouldering remains of my own, no doubt hunting for any sign that I’d been on board. Should I have left a biological trace for them to find? Something to convince them I’d died in the crash?

Cloak-and-dagger crap wasn’t my thing. I swallowed, knowing it was too late for that anyway. It made no sense to doubt myself now. Despite my frequent wishes, I couldn’t turn back time and change things—and there were so many things I’d change if I had that power.

I bit my lip as I watched the pair of goons from my rocky hiding place. Would they suspect I’d just walked away? They had enough firepower between them to kill me in an instant if they realized what had happened.

One goon started surveying the surrounding landscape.

“Shit,” I mouthed, making no sound as I flattened myself as far as I could—which wasn’t much in my bulky clothes. I put my hand in my pocket and wrapped my fingers around my Emerg-Blast. The little box was highly illegal, but I didn’t like carrying more overt weapons. If I hit the Emerg-Blast’s button, it would emit an electromagnetic pulse with enough power to fry electronics in about a ten-metre radius—so if the bad folks had blasters, they would suddenly find their weapons useless. As they were left troubleshooting their weapons, I’d run away and hide. (I’ve never pretended to be brave.)

As for my electronics, I’d lined all my pockets with what were essentially Faraday cages, meaning my shit was well protected.

Then the cavalry arrived—or at least what passed for it in this corner of the universe. A shuttle flew into view, its rusted hull adorned with a single, garish red light twirling around like a baton. The local search-and-rescue squad was here to save the day—or so they thought. But I had to admit their presence should make my survival simpler and more likely.

The goon farthest away shouted for his companion, and they promptly rushed back to their unmarked shuttle. I snorted as they took off. They weren’t the brightest bulbs in the box, but they had enough street smarts to realize when they should get out of the way of the authorities. Hopefully they’d report to their criminal overlords that I was good and dead, ending the attempts on my life.

The search-and-rescue ship landed on the vacated spot next to my destroyed shuttle. (Have I mentioned how much I loved that shuttle?) My shuttle’s call sign and registration numbers were still visible through the fire, and I’d submitted a proper flight plan stating that I would be flying solo to this world. The rescue squad would report me as really and truly dead, putting my plan in motion and changing my life forever.

Making sure I remained out of view from my rescuers, I stood and began walking away from them. Uncertainty gripped me as I gazed at the horizon, but there was no turning back.

Just yesterday, Doug at the Shuttle Repair Shop (yeah, a lame name, but Doug wasn’t known for his creativity) had given my ancient shuttle a clean bill of health. After only a quick checkup, he’d said it was ready. Which, of course, had left me suspicious. In the past he’d always presented me with a long list of ‘needed’ work, and we’d haggle. This time was different. I knew for a fact there were issues—the right engine ran a little too hot, and a colossal clunk sounded every time I extended the landing gear.

Always check the mechanic’s work. Even though it had been nineteen years since Vi gave me that advice, this time it really paid off.

“Why would I waste my time?” I’d rolled over and locked eyes with her—those captivating, dark eyes that had entranced me from our first meeting.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re the pilot, and it’s your life on the line.” She’d smiled, then tapped me on the nose with her finger. “And I’d be terribly upset to hear you died because you’d been stupid.”

I’d snorted then, just as I was snorting now.

“Take the basic mechanics course.”

“My evenings are better spent here with you,” I’d said in a lame attempt at romance. (I’d probably even tried to put on a cheesy, seductive expression.)

“Take the course.”

So I had. And today wasn’t the first time that knowledge had saved my life. Vi had been right. I’d taken the shuttle into the nearest berth as soon as I’d left Doug’s shop, and I’d found the explosives packed into my starboard engine. Doug wasn’t creative enough to want to kill me, but someone was—no doubt one of the many criminal factions around.

I swallowed. I didn’t know who wanted me dead, but hopefully now they thought they’d succeeded.

Chapter 2

Darla — Present day

As I walked away from the burning wreck of my favourite shuttle, I adjusted the strap on my goggles and pressed the AR icon on the interface. The sunlight dimmed as a holographic image appeared, giving me navigational information. Three kilometres away was an old industrial complex with grime caked to its walls from decades of neglect—kinda like me. The buildings were my first landmark, so I headed straight for them.

With a flick of my gaze, I started Hank’s code. In the overlaid world created by my goggles, a massive hippo appeared at my side.

“It went as planned,” I said.

Hank didn’t reply, but then he never did. He was a hippo, after all, and not even a real one.

“There’s a settlement on the other side.” I pointed to the abandoned factory. “We’ll take the train from there.”

I had to admit having an imaginary hippo as a companion was kinda weird. At one time there were real human beings in my life I could count on for company, but that had gone sideways. Like all relationships, the one with had Vi failed eventually, and I never met anyone quite like her again. Long after she vanished from my life, I got my own ship (just like she and I used to chat about late into the night, but I did it without her). Crew members came and went. The only ones who lasted had secrets as big as mine.

I let out a sigh, which Hank kindly ignored.

The dull orb that passed as a sun on this crap world began its dip toward the horizon, casting a harsh red light. The entire planet seemed smothered, covered in a crimson blanket, but at least the terrain wasn’t dull grey anymore. As it sank, the sun’s final rays highlighted the billows of my breath in the cold air.

The old factory’s imposing edifice filled my view now. It was silent, eerily so. With each step, the metallic taste in the air intensified. At this range the decaying structure appeared ready to topple at any moment. Nothing about it hinted at what they had once made behind its walls. It could have been millions of Hank the Hippo toys for all I knew. I looked down at Hank, and he looked up at me.

The cold air bit at my skin as I checked the temperature. The number had dropped significantly, and I risked hypothermia if I stayed out much longer. My aching knees begged me to stop, but I kept moving and continued my ruminating—which, I admit, was my superpower.

Who wanted me dead? I’d spent the past seventeen years running an ancient water tanker with a skeleton crew. To clarify, they weren’t actual skeletons, just the minimum number of crew members the Protectorate said I needed to keep a licence. Delivering water wasn’t the kind of activity that created enemies. Yeah, I dabbled in some collecting—just Old Earth artifacts. And yeah, my contacts were often shady. But I always paid well for my objects. Who tried to murder someone over an ancient trinket?

It was the stuff from Generation Ship 12, the last ship to leave Earth, that I coveted the most. I had packed nothing practical beyond a change of clothes in my backpack, but my most prized possession—a Hank the Hippo notebook sketched in by a little boy born on Earth—was protected in a waterproof sheath. It was so precious, I barely looked inside, just the first few pages. Each one depicted a happy family heading out into the stars. Just thinking about it made me smile.

A crack drew my attention, and I spun around. The rocks to the right collapsed in a puff of dust.

From where I stood, I could see a field of two-meter-long piles of rocks that extended to the old factory. The dying sunlight highlighted dozens, maybe over a hundred of them. Then it dawned on me what they were. Graves. I swallowed and got moving, not wanting to be anywhere close to here. Clearly this world had killed these people. There was no reason for me to stick around.

My contact would be waiting for me at the base of the space elevator. I needed to catch the last train tonight to make it on time. This time I had a plan—the first step to my new life.

Fast moving, I was not. After I circled the factory, it took me another hour to reach the town. Full darkness had settled by then, bringing with it a bitter cold that cut to my core despite the fact that I’d programmed my nanite clothing to its warmest setting.

When I arrived, the townsfolk were smartly all indoors. Only a few old TUD units moved about, doing odd jobs—taking out trash, washing windows. (Who the hell set a robot to wash windows in below-freezing weather?) I’d always been told the TUD line of military robots was short for ‘totally useless device.’ Since they were surplus now, anyone could get a TUD unit for cheap. I scoffed. I sure as hell didn’t need a useless device mucking up my life.

I pulled up my hood and zipped my jacket as high as it could go. It and my goggles obscured my face. To the occasional person I passed, I looked like a random woman. Even if my murderers came to town and asked questions, no one would be able to describe me. It was foolish sentimentality, I knew, but I kept Hank at my side, his silent presence the only company I needed. Plus, he was invisible to everyone but me—no need for the locals to brand me as crazy.

The town—or more accurately village—consisted of a few resident blocks, some dilapidated stores, and a train station. I went directly to the station, ignoring my grumbling stomach as I passed the only restaurant in town. The night train waited, its sleek shape out of place compared to the surroundings.

I purchased a ticket from the automatic kiosk. When I’d gotten wind someone was trying to kill me, I’d taken precautions with my credits—they were now tucked away in a chain of accounts no one knew I had (not even the banks). No one could track me through my money, which gave me a fair amount of freedom.

Keeping my face averted from the security cameras, I boarded the train. The lights blinded me as I stepped inside. I paused and let my eyes adjust, then sighed at the scene. The illumination in the car wasn’t nearly as bright as I’d thought. Dim shadows filled the corners.

A pace farther in, the rank stench of body odour with a side of stale sandwiches greeted me. The smells suggested it had been some time since the car’s last maintenance—something that would have driven Vi nuts. Worn seats lined a narrow aisle. Ads for fast food, cosmetic surgery, and luxury vacations flashed on the panels above the windows, creating the kind of cluttered sight that typically graced low-end commuter trains. To make matters worse, a few cracked windows allowed dust and grime to enter. Random trash accumulated in the corners, and graffiti covered the seats.

On the plus side, hardly anyone was on board. I took a window seat on the side facing away from the town—one where the window was clear of any spray paint. I slumped down, my backpack on my lap, and dozed off.

A ping followed by the announcement of our departure woke me. I yawned and looked around just as a shudder passed through the train and all the doors slid closed. The car remained mostly empty. No need to be concerned about a chatty moron sitting next to me. With a groan, the train levitated and pulled out of the station.

Congratulating myself on my success, I closed my eyes and let my head tip back against the headrest. Finally I could relax, but of course my mind started racing instead.

While I couldn’t claim to have lived a perfectly law-abiding life, I could remember only one event that might have warranted killing me—and that had happened seventeen years ago. Was my past finally catching up to me? I wasn’t proud of what I’d done, but—

I swallowed and opened my eyes. “No need to dwell on that shit,” I said to myself.

There was nothing to see out the window, so I opened my backpack and pulled out the Hank the Hippo notebook. A smiling version of Hank graced the cover, and across the bottom in block letters was the name Minjun Lee. I knew it should be kept in a museum and fussed over by professional curators, but I wasn’t ready to let go of it. Besides, I’d been dealing with old shit for decades. I knew what I was doing.

I kept the notebook in a sealed bag, protected from my fingers, and a piece of cardboard on the back meant it couldn’t be bent. I could keep it safe forever.

I slipped the notebook back in my bag and put my foot through the strap so no one could pull it away from me. Then I let my gaze fall on the dark landscape outside. There was nothing to see. I dozed off again.

Chapter 3

Hakkun — 723 years ago

Hakkun couldn’t look away from the window. Less than twenty-four hours remained before Generation Ship 12’s departure, making this one of the last times he’d ever see Earth.

From his location in geostationary orbit, he could see the entire world. An angry orange glow raged around the equator from fires that burned out of control whenever the winds were right. An opaque band of yellow smoke smothered most of the midlatitudes. Only the poles showed any sign of life-giving greens.

“When will Mommy get here?”

Hakkun shifted his gaze to the little boy gripping his hand. Minjun was only seven, unlikely to remember the charred-smelling air they’d had to breathe on the planet. Unlikely to remember leaving the world that had been their family’s home.

Minjun’s dark eyes widened beneath his mass of spiky black hair. “She’s coming, right?”

“Of course she is.” Hakkun squeezed Minjun’s hand. “She’s scheduled to be on the 6:30 p.m. space elevator car.” He smiled. “Nothing will keep her away from us. Now, let’s find your new room.”

Minjun nodded, holding his prized possession tightly in his other hand. It was a lumpy backpack featuring Hank the Hippo’s smiling face. Inside he kept his analogue art supplies and a notebook featuring Hank’s over-the-top smile. Anything with the cartoon hippo on it was Minjun’s favourite.

“We’ve been assigned to cabin A-89.” Hakkun led Minjun away from the window. “The elevator to the bridge, where I’ll be working, is nearby.”

Minjun looked up at him. “Mom said you’ll be driving the ship.”

“That’s right. I’m one of the bridge officers. I’ll also be the one plotting our path through the stars.”

Minjun stopped and let go of Hakkun’s hand. He scrunched up his face as though contemplating something big. “But why do we have to go?”

Hakkun knelt to Minjun’s level. He didn’t want to tell his boy about the worsening air on Earth or how the ever-present fires threatened their former home. If crops failed again, there wouldn’t be enough food. Minjun had no future on Earth. Hakkun sighed.

“Let’s use the elevator to go back down to Mom. I don’t need to live in space.” The earnest look in Minjun’s liquid dark eyes melted Hakkun’s heart.

“We’re going on an adventure.” Hakkun stood and gestured to the surrounding ship. “We’re going somewhere new, somewhere safe and exciting.”

“My teacher said we’ll live our entire lives on this ship. We’ll never set foot on a planet again.”

“That’s true. But we get to go somewhere new. We’ll chart our own path through the stars.” Minjun didn’t look convinced, so Hakkun crouched again. He pointed to Hank the Hippo’s face. “Hank will be with us all the way.”

Minjun scrunched up his face again. After a moment he nodded as though Hank’s presence was enough to make their journey okay.

Hakkun stood again and took his son’s hand. The two of them started walking. “You should document our adventure in your notebook. You know your mom and I always love seeing your drawings.”

Minjun nodded, then pointed to the nearest door. “A-89.”

“Right, we’re here.” Hakkun pressed the door release, and it slid open.

A courtyard, circled with planters ready to be filled with plants, greeted them. Three adults at the farthest planter were moving seedlings from a cart. A pair of toddlers sat on the ground next to the adults. A little girl about Minjun’s age spotted them. She raced over, her mass of curls bouncing with each step. Her T-shirt featured the face of Hank the Hippo.

“Are you the last family for this pod?” she asked. “What are your names? And do you—”

“Fatima,” a woman at the planter said, cutting off the girl.

Fatima fell silent and bit her lip.

After wiping her hands on her pants, the woman came over. “I apologize. Fatima is very keen on making new friends.”

“It’s okay,” Hakkun said.

Fatima pointed to Minjun’s backpack. “Hey, you like Hank too?”

Minjun nodded and pressed closer to Hakkun.

“Welcome. I’m Iris. I’ve been designated this pod’s lead.” The woman held out her hand, and Hakkun shook it. “And you must be Lieutenant Lee. I was told there would be three of you.”

“My wife, Sonya, will arrive in a few hours.” Hakkun smiled to seem friendly. He hadn’t expected a shared living situation, but at least there were other children.

“Your rooms are over there.” Iris pointed to a door behind them. “And don’t worry, there’s a kitchen and a living room in addition to two bedrooms.”

Hakkun gave a sheepish grin. “Am I that obvious?”

Iris shrugged. “These are unusual times. On top of that, it seems you’ve just found out you’ll be living with three families you’ve never met.”

A uniformed woman stormed through the main door, interrupting Iris. “Lieutenant Lee?”

Hakkun turned toward the newcomer. “Yes, that’s me.”

“You’re needed on the bridge right away,” she said. “There’s been an incident.”

“I…” Hakkun’s words trailed off as he pointed to Minjun.

Iris came forward and looked down at the little boy. “Minjun, right?”

Minjun nodded, hugging his backpack to his chest.

“Why don’t you go with Fatima? She can show you your new home and maybe her Hank figures. She even has some of Hank’s friends.”

“Really? Which ones?” Minjun’s face brightened.

“I’ll show you.” Fatima grinned and took Minjun’s hand.

Minjun looked up at Hakkun, and he nodded at his boy. At least there was someone age appropriate and willing to be a friend, and everyone seemed friendly enough. Hakkun swallowed and told himself everything was going to work out just fine.

Iris smiled, obviously reading his anxiety. “He’ll be fine with us. Go and take care of this incident.” She gestured to the open door.

“Okay.” Reluctantly, Hakkun turned and left his son in the care of strangers.

The other officer remained silent during their elevator ride to the bridge. Hakkun straightened his brand-new uniform tunic as the door opened. The bridge was larger than he’d expected—and shiny. Every surface gleamed, from the workstation displays to the flooring—even the upholstery on the captain’s chair had a sheen to it.

“Is that him?” A bear of a man turned toward the elevator. He wore the insignia of a captain.

“Yes. Sir,” the lieutenant who had come for him said before she strode to a workstation and sat down.

“Hmmm.” The captain looked Hakkun up and down. “Is your family on board?”

“Not quite, sir.” Hakkun shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Not quite?”

“My wife is scheduled to be on the 18:23 car coming up the elevator.”

The captain frowned. “That’s not good. Why didn’t she travel with you?”

Hakkun’s mouth went dry. “She had some final business to tie up before departure.”

The captain spoke to the lieutenant who’d come with Hakkun. “Gregor, how are we doing on passengers?”

“We are still waiting for 456 people to get up to the ship,” she said.

The captain turned back to him. “Lieutenant Lee, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Hakkun itched to ask why there was such concern, but he didn’t dare speak the words.

“You’re a navigation officer, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need you to plot our options for departing Earth’s orbit. Start with one at 18:00 hours, then one every hour afterward.”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Gregor said. “We can’t leave without our full complement.”

“We’ll stay as long as we can, but I expect that, for the safety of the ship, we might be forced to leave well before our scheduled departure time. Now, get to work.” The captain strode off, leaving Hakkun in his wake.

Lieutenant Gregor gestured for Hakkun to take the workstation beside her. “My name is Julia. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. With all the mob actions, I’ve been so distracted.”

Hakkun settled into the seat and brought up the orbital positions of all celestial objects in the solar system. “What’s going on.”

“A protest has formed at the base of the space elevator, made up of people angry about being left behind.” Julia checked over her shoulder, then turned back to him, dropping her voice a little. “They’re also mad so many of Earth’s resources have been funnelled into the generational ships, leaving them with so little.”

The protestors weren’t wrong. The generation ship program had depleted the planet’s resources with only a fraction of the population eligible for departure. Those to be left behind were aware of the grim future ahead of them.

Hakkun licked his lips. Things were worse than he’d thought. “My wife is going to have to get past the protests.”

“Call her, see if she can get on an earlier car coming up,” Julia said.

“I gotta check these…” Hakkun scratched his head. Even though he knew they were correct, the orbital ellipses he’d just created seemed pointless compared to what Sonja was facing on the planet below. Why had he left her behind? Crowds made her anxious, and now she’d have to make her way through an angry mob on her own.

“Call her on your screen. No one will know. Multitask that with your calculations. I heard you’re a hotshot navigator. You’ll do fine.” Julia smiled, an expression that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll block everyone’s view.”

Hakkun nodded and sent a message to his wife.

Chapter 4

Norman — Two months earlier

The vivid blue sky topped the snow-covered peaks that surrounded Norman Butterworth. He sighed as he took in the view. Rayleigh scattering created the blue, just the way the textbooks had described Old Earth’s sky. In the distance the fresh snow on the jagged mountains appeared crisp and clean. It was the kind of panorama that belonged on a holiday card.

“It’s your turn, my friend.” Haoyu had started with his usual move, meaning the winner was a forgone conclusion.

Norman shifted his attention to the chessboard between them. They used to play on a real chessboard—a gift from Haoyu’s sister. However, a moment of excitement in the past had left it ruined.

Now they used a handmade version crafted from an upside-down resin tray stolen from the cafeteria. He’d spent days carving it and all the pieces, each designed to match Norman’s childhood set. He picked up a pawn. Like the rest, it remained rough to the touch.

“Have you ever thought about escaping?” Norman asked as he considered an unexpected move.

“That would be nuts. Look at what surrounds us.” Haoyu gazed out at the breathtaking landscape and sighed. “It may be beautiful, but there is nothing out there for us—no wildlife, no plants, not even water we could drink.”

Norman nodded. The guards were always quick to point out how desolate this planet was.

“And the prison is the only building around for miles. I doubt they’d even bother to search for us if we left.” Haoyu pursed his lips as he looked at the view.

“Yeah.” Norman eyed his friend.

“We’d die within days.” Haoyu met Norman’s gaze.

Norman's assessment of the situation was the same. Every day for the past decade, he and Haoyu had come to the rooftop space, played a game of chess, and pondered their escape. To Norman this was just a thought exercise, something he thought prisoners were supposed to do.

“They picked this planet well,” Norman said as he stared at the board, his heart heavy with indecision as he hovered his pawn above a white square. After a long pause, he made his move.

“They certainly did. If you really want out of here, why don’t you take up my offer to have my lawyer look at your case?” Haoyu captured Norman’s pawn with his bishop.

Norman stared at him, wondering if he was offering a lifeline or baiting a trap. Haoyu was a member of the Long family, a crime family with a reputation for ruthless power plays. Norman didn’t want to get caught in their web. Still, the offer tempted him—anything to escape this intergalactic prison.

Norman captured one of Haoyu’s knights with his queen.

“Are they your lawyer or your family’s lawyer?”

Haoyu chuckled. “Well played, my friend.” He moved his queen across the board and leaned back in his chair. “You’re wise to be cautious. But I assure you, my lawyer is not beholden to my family. He’s the best in the sector. I bet he could get you out of here.”

A gust of wind, scented with snow and frost, ruffled Norman’s mostly grey hair.

“I’d be worried accepting help from a crime family’s lawyer is the kind of favour I’d have to pay back forever.” Norman moved his bishop. “Checkmate, my friend.”

“My sister’s the real crime boss. It’s never been me. She always had a better eye for the long game,” Haoyu said with a smirk. “Pun intended.”

Norman groaned. “Is that why you ended up here?”

Haoyu’s smirk broadened. “I can never say, but I’m getting out soon. Let me have my lawyer contact you so you don’t have to spend your life here.”

“My actions resulted in Captain Kassinger’s death,” Norman said, his voice hollow. “There’s no denying it. I’m a murderer, and this is where I belong.”

Haoyu shook his head slowly, his eyes shining with sadness. “But it was an accident, my friend. You didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Norman clenched his fists, but he couldn’t bring himself to challenge Haoyu’s words. They sat in silence for a while as Norman’s thoughts churned. Even after seventeen years, that day remained etched in his mind. How he’d been foolish to attempt a crime for a pretty woman, how things had gone sideways, and how he’d been betrayed. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Then there was the question of Captain Kassinger’s death.

Haoyu continued, “Besides, seventeen years is more than enough time to atone for that. I’m certain there’s a loophole that could help.”

“I don’t know.” Norman would never admit it, but he appreciated the routine here. The predictability almost made up for the fact the food was crap. Oh, how he missed enjoying a good coffee with a perfectly flaky croissant. He sighed. Although he dreamed of making a daring escape, he accepted this was where he belonged.

“I’ll talk to my lawyer.” Haoyu started putting the chess pieces into a box as a chime sounded, signalling the end of their time outside for another day.

Norman sighed. “This is where I deserve to be,” he said a second time.

Haoyu shook his head as the two men descended the stairs to the prison yard. They joined the fifty or so inmates in a single-file line against the chipped concrete wall, their faces stoic, their eyes cast down, while the guards counted them. Only the echoing of guards’ boots and the ever-present wind broke the silence. After every prisoner was accounted for, a thick iron door slid open with a grinding groan, and they began their slow walk down to their level of the jail—slow because this group contained only long-timers, men who’d committed their crimes so long ago they’d become different people.

“Haoyu Long,” a guard said as they passed the checkpoint. “Come with me. Your lawyer is here to see you.”

Haoyu grinned. “I’ll get you out of here, old friend,” he told Norman before following the guard in a different direction.

Norman sighed. Did he want to get out of here? If he was free, how would he spend the rest of his life? He’d once dreamed of captaining a luxury yacht, but now the best he could hope for was a job as a deckhand on some crappy cargo ship. Once more he sighed and repeated his mantra of deserving to be there.

He peeled off to the right and into his cell. The drab grey concrete walls, lit by a single bright fixture overhead, comforted him, as if he were home again. He sank onto his cot and closed his eyes. Being in his cell was soothing—his room felt like his own private sanctuary.

A buzzer preceded his door sliding closed. It was clear, meaning he could be observed at any time. This prison was a perfect panopticon. Eyes could be on him from the central control room, or a patrolling drone might pass at any moment. However, the authorities considered his cohort of prisoners as low risk, so they were allowed a few luxuries.

From the small table beside his cot, Norman picked up one of his luxury items. It had arrived in the mail a few years after he arrived. It was a model of an old-fashioned steam engine, the kind once used on Old Earth. Norman ran a finger over the shiny blue paint. He knew who the gift was from. This was the only contact he’d ever had from her.

Also on the table was an old-fashioned still photograph. He picked it up next, the photo paper now soft from age. A toddler gazed back at him. Her grin was so big, you could see the gap in her front teeth. The kid—his kid—wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d missed her childhood.

Norman sighed again.

Chapter 5

Darla — Seventeen years ago

Darla sank into the rich upholstery on the bench seat next to Vi and wrapped an arm around her. Their train cabin exuded the sort of luxury once considered high-end on Old Earth, long before the troubles that had forced humans to leave the planet.

“This is perfect,” Vi whispered as she relaxed against Darla. The sweet scents of vanilla and honey wafted up from her hair.

“It is.” Darla looked around their surroundings, regretting their holiday was almost over.

Dark mahogany walls and ceiling gave the space a warm glow. Jewel-toned paisley fabric covered the nicely padded seat—one that didn’t make a sound when they moved around on it. A large window gave them a clear view of the sleek New Haven station on one side, and a door with only a small window gave them privacy from the other passengers. It was romantic—almost.

“I just wish we’d come alone,” Vi whispered as Norman slid open the door to the cabin. He settled on the bench across from them.

Darla nearly groaned. Norman had a habit of talking his way into situations where he wasn’t wanted. She couldn’t even remember how he’d convinced them to bring him to the planet’s surface on their only two days off in the past six months. Most likely, Vi had invited him—she was always too kind to the moron.

Oblivious that he was unwelcome in Darla’s eyes, Norman ran his fingers through his honey-hued wavy hair and smiled at the two women. “Now, this is a luxury train.”

Vi straightened. Trains were one of her favourite subjects. “They built it during the revival period, making it more than a hundred years old. The details are superb, more luxurious than even the Garden Princess.”

Norman smiled at her, and for a moment, Darla felt a pang of jealousy. “Be careful, my little mechanic. Insulting our place of employment could have unintended consequences.”

“Bullshit,” Darla said. “The Garden Princess needs us.”

Vi pulled herself away from Darla’s embrace, leaving a cold spot in her wake. “But do we need the Garden Princess?”

Norman leaned forward. “Plenty of luxury ships out there would hire the three of us in a heartbeat.”

The train levitated and pulled away from New Haven station. Darla shivered, cool where Vi’s warmth had dissipated. She turned her gaze to the passing city buildings, their pompous style reminiscent of some sort of neo-Greek revival thing that both Vi and Norman would tell her all about if she asked. She didn’t ask.

“Is anyone in the mood for tea?” a serving robot asked from the door, breaking the silence.

Vi smiled. “Yes, please, with extra sugar.”

“I’d prefer a coffee and maybe a croissant if there are any on board,” Norman said.

Darla rolled her eyes and tried to hide her annoyance; Norman always wanted more than what was offered. “A tea for me too,” she said, wishing it was beer o’clock.

“I will return with your refreshments in a few minutes.” The robot rolled away down the corridor.

“I’m glad the Garden Princess hasn’t resorted to that kind of service,” Vi said when the trio were alone again.

“The ship is all about offering personalized luxury.” Norman defaulted to his know-it-all tone.

Darla frowned. “Explains why we keep getting roped into those fancy shindigs, eh?”

“Speak for yourself! Those positions are only ever for bridge officers like you two. Engineers like me never get invited,” Vi said.

“You could always borrow my uniform,” Darla said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Vi would look like a little clown wearing the oversized uniform.

“You know, I just might. I bet that’d cause a stir.”

The robot returned with a teapot peppered in jaunty pink flowers and matching cups and saucers on a silver tray. With mechanical grace, it set the tray down in the centre of the table before placing a steaming mug of coffee with the train’s emblem on it and a plate with a croissant in front of Norman.

“Travel time to the base of the space elevator is two hours. I can be reached through the train’s intercom,” the robot said before rolling away. Norman slid the door shut behind it.

He took a sip of his coffee. “What do you two think of jumping ship, so to speak, and finding a privately owned yacht in need of a few crew members?”

Vi cocked her head. “You really don’t like the new captain, do you?”

Ever since the new captain started, things hadn’t been nearly as fun on the Garden Princess. Making things worse, she was a stickler for outdated rules like ironing uniforms and polishing boots. Who had time for that crap?

“Captain Kassinger rubs me the wrong way,” Norman admitted.

“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” Darla said. “Especially since you suck up to her every time you two are in the same room.”

Norman shrugged. “As first officer, I’m simply doing my job.” He leaned back in his chair, holding his mug in one hand. “But I’ve been researching positions on other ships—positions where I would be the captain.”

Darla leaned back in her seat too and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ready to move up the ladder already?”

Vi poured two cups of tea, then looked at Norman. “You’ve been first officer on the Garden Princess for two years. Moving up might make sense.”

Another silence fell over the cabin, punctuated by the silver spoon hitting the fine ceramic teacup as Vi stirred in way too much sugar.

Norman spoke first. “I think you two should make the move with me. You, Vi, are an amazing mechanic, and you”—he gestured at Darla—“have adequate navigational and piloting skills.”

Darla snorted.

“We’d be trading working for one set of people for another,” Vi said. “I’d prefer to run my own show.”

Norman leaned forward. “Are you suggesting we run our own luxury yacht?”

“Yes.”

Norman licked his lips. “That may be out of our reach, unless one of you comes from a lot of money.”

Darla met Vi’s gaze. “I’d love to be my own boss, but why on some fancy yacht where we’d still be stuck answering to our rich patrons? What I’d really love is one of those contract survey vessels. We could go off on our own and explore…”

“I’d go stir crazy in days,” Vi said.

Darla did her best to keep her face neutral. As much as she’d love to just explore, Vi’s happiness was the important thing.

“Whatever ship we chose, we’d need a lottery win to get one that wasn’t a condemned rust bucket,” Norman said.

Vi put her elbows on the table, looking between Norman and Darla. “I think we’re in the right place to take advantage of an opportunity. We need to keep our ears open and think things through.”

Norman grinned. “You’re suggesting a heist.”

“The Garden Princess is where the elite go to be seen,” Vi said. “An opportunity might present itself.”

Darla leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table too. “That’s batshit crazy.”

“I’m in,” Norman said, locking his gaze on Vi. “I love a crazy plan.”

With a frown, Darla met Vi’s gaze. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

Chapter 6

Red — Present day

Red yawned as she stood at the ferry’s front windows. The ship was on its final approach to Digbal City’s space station above the mining-based planet of Formax. Compared to the drabness of the planet below, the station seemed extra shiny. A gossamer line extended from the city on the surface and through the station to the captured asteroid acting as counterweight.

She’d stayed up most of the night reading news reports about Digbal City. Both it and the station were dangerous places full of unrest and random crime. To make matters worse, the person she was here to meet was hardly reputable.

“She’ll do it,” she mumbled to herself, then glanced around to see if anyone was listening.

The forward viewing compartment was mostly empty, which didn’t surprise her. Formax wasn’t the sort of world to attract tourists. The ferry was full of miners and other workers who’d been on holiday (and no doubt needed every second to sleep off their final night of celebrations) and travelling merchants. To Red’s relief, everyone had kept to themselves.

She turned back to the view and watched the ferry glide into its berth. A few minutes later, a chime sounded, followed by a synthetic voice announcing the passengers were free to disembark. Red picked up her bag and headed to the exit. She had a ticket for the next space elevator car heading to the surface, and she’d have to hurry to make it.

Describing Digbal City’s space station as well worn would have been an understatement. Away from the ferry station, the shops and offices were increasingly rundown. Many were shut completely, although their left-behind signs suggested a more prosperous past. Red passed a shop for ‘high-end nanite clothing’ and another for ‘quality immersive videos,’ both long since closed. Trash piled up in the corners as though even the cleaning robots had abandoned the place.

Most of what was open now were diners wafting out pungent aromas and pawn shops offering the ‘best deals’ in orbit. From the corner of her eyes, she caught movement along the ground—a cockroach. A shiver ran up her spine. At least she didn’t have to stay here long.

Red gripped her bag tighter as she made her way to the space elevator terminus. She reminded herself she was here for a reason, not just to gawk. She was grateful it was early morning, and most of the people in the main concourse had gotten off the ferry, just like her.

From behind, another traveller pushed past her, shunting Red into the window of an abandoned shop. With a thunk, Red impacted the clear surface, letting go of her bag.

“Hey,” Red said, glaring at the person who’d shoved her, but they’d already vanished into the crowd.

“Need a hand?”

Red turned to find a station security guard standing an arm’s length away. He was holding her bag. Red froze. Something about him didn’t seem right.

“Now, you shouldn’t be leaving your belongings lying about,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Look, I’m just passing through. Please give me back my bag. I need to get to the elevator.” Red reached out to grab it.

He pulled away from her before she could. “Looks like you’re travelling alone.”

“That’s none of your business.” She pursed her lips, eyeing her bag. One lunge and she’d have the bag back in her grip, but then what? She swallowed. He was right; she was here alone.

“Don’t make a scene, and you’ll be on your way in a minute.” He opened the front enclosure of her bag and started rifling through.

Red looked to the passing people for help, but the other ferry passengers were gone now. A few workers passed, but none made eye contact with her. No one was going to help her. Tears threatened to spill down her face.

“Please, give me my bag.” She cringed at how meek her voice sounded.

The man laughed. “You must be from some fancy place,” he said as he opened a side pocket. “Just asking isn’t going to get you shit around here.”

Red held her breath and contemplated lunging for her belongings again.

From the very bottom of her bag, the man pulled out the slim case Haoyu had given her. It was the fanciest-looking item in her bag and clearly of value. It also held the credits she was supposed to use for this trip. Haoyu had assured her they were untraceable. In that moment it dawned on her she should have put the credits in a used take-out bag or something equally unappealing.

“I’ll take this as a donation.” The security guard shoved the case in his front pocket. He threw the bag to Red with enough force she nearly dropped it.

“Wait,” she said, but it was too late. The security guard was already walking away in the opposite direction from the elevator.

What should she do? Station security was out; besides, how would she explain having untraceable credits? A tear snaked down her cheek. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Haoyu she’d failed before even meeting their contact.

She leaned against the wall, cradling her bag against her chest. She wanted to hide in a corner somewhere and break down in tears.

“But you’re a grown-up,” she said to herself. “Act like one. Don’t prove Mom right.”

She put a hand in her pocket to confirm she still had her personal stash of credits—the last of her savings. Pulling herself up tall, she checked the time. If she hurried, she could still catch the elevator to the surface she had a ticket for. She could still meet her contact. All was not lost.

Chapter 7

Darla — Present day

I woke with a jerk, my neck immediately complaining about the weird angle I’d fallen asleep in. Low-end train seats never made for a good night’s sleep. I opened my eyes, winced at the bright light, and slammed my eyelids closed again like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Damn fool. You should have rented a room in that shitty town,” I said to myself. My meeting could’ve been pushed back; the morning train would’ve worked just fine. I hadn’t needed to rush into my future.

With a sigh, I stretched my arms up, initiating a cascading series of pops. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but I wasn’t the only sleepy one. The few other people in my car were dead to the world, their bodies twisted into awkward positions in their seats. Some slept with their mouths open and snored loudly; others had their mouths closed, their breaths a silent sigh. I scrunched my nose at the smell of feet and dirty socks. If only there was a first-class car or, even better, private sleeper cars—then I could have avoided this nastiness.

“Wait,” I muttered under my breath as I reached down. My bag was where I’d left it, strapped to my ankle. I let out a long exhale and told myself things were going to be just fine.

If only I believed it.

In the early morning light, I still couldn’t fathom that I’d done it. After multiple attempts on my life—the explosives on the shuttle hadn’t been the first—I’d finally faked my own death. I no longer had to check over my shoulder everywhere I went.

A door opened somewhere behind me, and I twisted to see (the irony of having to check over my shoulder wasn’t lost on me). A beat-up old serving drone rolled up the aisle, offering paper cups full of a dark liquid that didn’t smell quite like coffee. I accepted a cup, took a sip, and nearly spat it out.

“Crap, that’s bad.”

The robot ignored me and continued down the aisle.

I stared into my cup. The dark liquid probably had a hefty dose of caffeine, which was exactly what I needed. “Oh, well.” I chugged the rest of the brew.

Outside, a sliver of one of the suns peaked above the horizon. You’d think it would create charming splashes of yellow and pink across the sky, but you’d be wrong. There was nothing but shades of grey, as if someone had trapped me in an alternate universe devoid of colour. I doubled down on my hatred of this backwater world. To compensate, I pulled on my goggles, set the view to a sunrise on Old Earth, and was rewarded with an overlay of much prettier hues.

Another hour later, the space elevator came into view, a long line extending up from the surface to this world’s spaceport (a piddly one without even a good place to eat—I’d been there before).

A melodious chime sounded from somewhere in the ceiling. Then an androgynous voice said, “We will arrive at Digbal City in ninety minutes.”

The sleeping masses began to stir, cranking up the noise level several notches. While the adults began shifting their belongings, a small child escaped their caregiver’s clutches, screeching with joy as they bolted down the aisle. The peace and quiet of the morning shattered.

With a groan, I settled my backpack on my lap. Though it was unlikely anyone would try to steal it, I still kept close watch over the bag; it held my most important possessions, after all.

I had a scheduled meeting with my contact at noon local time. Once we arrived at the ‘city,’ I would have plenty of time to find a proper breakfast and, most important, some real coffee.

A mishmash of modular buildings thrown together by whoever had arrived first in the system made up most of Digbal City. The wind had then etched every surface, exposing the metal beneath what once might have been colourful paint jobs. A general state of disrepair suggested the locals had given up on trying to repair things.

Wind whistled through the settlement as I exited the train, so I kept my goggles on. Aromas of fried food filled my nostrils as I walked into the street, and I thought of Molly’s Diner back on Jupiter Station. Memories of Vi and her love for that place flooded my mind. My mouth watered as I remembered the pie…

But the diner before me now looked nothing like it. The neon lights appeared garish in contrast to the soft pastels of Molly’s, and streaks of rust and dirt covered the facade. A shudder ran up my torso.

“Get a grip on yourself,” I muttered. My stomach grumbled. There was no ignoring my hunger. With a deep sigh, I forced myself to cross the street and enter the diner.

Inside reeked of fried food, anticipation, and disinfectant. Worst of all, my boots stuck to the floor with each step. A handful of patrons wearing dirt-covered work clothes ate and drank in silence. The only sound was the occasional clink and scrape of utensils on plates. No music, no laughter—just a sombre atmosphere that made my skin crawl.

On the plus side, no one paid me any attention. I guess living at the foot of a space elevator meant they were used to off-worlders like me. With my backpack on, I took a seat at the bar.

“What’ll you have?” asked the tired-looking woman behind the counter. For a moment I froze. Looking at her was like staring in a mirror—not that our appearances matched. Her skin was darker than mine, her physique heavier. It was her eyes. They held the same bleakness I felt. A tingle wove up my spine.

“Do you have proper coffee?” I asked after an uncomfortable silence.

She cocked her head as though I’d asked her to serve liver pâté on a banana leaf. “Yeah, I brewed it myself.”

“A coffee and some toast with peanut butter.”

“Sure.” The server wandered away.

I tried to make myself comfortable on the barstool, but the decaying foam made it impossible. After less than thirty seconds of futile shifting, I conceded and moved to a booth next to the window. The bench seat was only marginally better, but at least I could stare out the window.

Outside, brightly coloured signs on buildings punctuated the grey atmosphere of this world. A handful of people strolled down the empty street, devoid of any vehicles. It was as though the mining shift had already started, and the city would remain quiet until the next shift change. I scratched the side of my head as I tried to remember what they mined here.

My toast and coffee arrived. Without a word, the server left again.

Sitting there all alone, it dawned on me I may have made a mistake (a rare thing, I know). The contact I was meeting knew me by name—the name I’d gone out of my way to attach to a person everyone thought was dead. If I went through with our meeting, the people who were trying to kill me might learn I wasn’t dead. In other words I couldn’t really trust this stranger.

I sipped my coffee and continued to stare out the window. What this stranger promised she had was the reason I was willing to fake my death in the first place. It was a catch-22. I knew I should walk now, take the elevator to the spaceport, and leave. Start a new life for a second time.

But I couldn’t walk away. This, I had to see through. Only then could I start to make amends for what I did seventeen years ago. Maybe, just maybe, I could make things right—or at least offer an apology. I’d been such an ass.

Still ruminating on all my past failures, I finished breakfast and exited the diner, leaving a hefty tip in my wake.

It turned out Digbal City had a library, like my contact said. (I’d been skeptical such a place existed in this backwater town.) I arrived early to scope the place out. Well, I arrived early because I really had nothing else to do with my time.

Hidden away in the basement of the city hall, the library was so analogue I wondered if the citizens around here were itching to be Luddites. The scent of old paper filled the dusty air. As I wandered up and down the aisles, I couldn’t believe so many pulp books lined them. These books would be worth a fortune at auction on Seven Soaring Swans.

Then a familiar face caught my attention. Hank the Hippo grinned at me from the cover of a children’s book. I grinned back and picked it up.

It wasn’t an original from Old Earth; there were only three originals known in existence, all locked away with wealthy collectors. Someone had printed this one only a few years ago, and according to the front page, it was done right here in Digbal City. But the artwork was well reproduced.

I smiled as I flipped through the pages. The story followed Hank as he took the train with his best friend, a sleek stork named Joy. I stopped at the page where they watched the scenery go by while sipping tea from delicate teacups.

Even though the book was from a different era, written on a different world, it made me think of the train ride Vi and I took on New Haven. (I refused to admit that putz Norman was also there.) Everything had changed after that—everything had gotten worse. If I’d known it would be my last truly happy memory, I would have savoured every second.

I glanced over my shoulder. The librarian seemed to be asleep at his desk, and I hadn’t seen a single security drone since I’d arrived on this planet. Perhaps they really were Luddites. I bit my lip and returned my attention to the book.

I’d promised myself I wasn’t collecting things anymore. I’d abandoned most of my collection, and so far I hadn’t felt the slightest bit of remorse. Okay, I’d stashed the best stuff in safe places on the stations I used to visit regularly, but I had abandoned 90 percent of everything I’d collected over the past seventeen years. This children’s comic book made me smile, though.

With my back to the librarian, I slipped off my backpack and, in a single motion, shoved Hank Takes the Train inside. Yeah, I’m that kind of person.

The girl had to be my contact. I snorted. She didn’t appear a day older than sixteen. There was a familiarity to her features, a resemblance that tugged at something deep inside me, but I was certain I’d never seen her before. Besides, I made a point of not going anywhere teenagers might hang out.

After slinging the pack on my back, I headed her way. “You must be Red.”

She made a face as if she’d sucked on a lemon when she spotted me. “Darla?”

“Theo65 said you have a job.” I towered over the girl. I didn’t mean to be intimidating, but I knew my stature, combined with my heavy coat and AR goggles, made me look that way. Vi used to tell me all the time that I came across as a grumpy bear.

The girl glanced at the librarian, who was ignoring us. “Yes,” she said as she ran her hands down the sides of her pants and began fidgeting with the seams. “Theo65 assured me you were up to it.”

A silence drew out between us.

Finally, I spoke. At least I wasn’t some timid teenage wallflower. “Well, spill the beans, girl. What is it you want me to do?”

“My partner has secured a shuttle. We need you to fly it.”

I nodded. A flying job is what I’d expected. “You know where the map is?”

Her cheeks flushed as she nodded.

“Okay, cryptic girl, where do you want me to fly you to?”

“Vander’s Edge.” Her gaze locked onto mine.

I froze. Vander’s Edge was an ultra-maximum-security prison—the only thing on a world unsuited for anything else. As much as I wanted that map, I wasn’t sure I’d dare go to that prison uninvited.

“I have to ask—are you planning to break someone out of prison?”

Red bit her lip. For someone with such eye-catching hair, she seemed timid.

“I sure as hell don’t want to end up an inmate there,” I continued.

“You won’t,” she said. “We have a plan.” Her tone didn’t fill me with confidence.

“Crap, so it is a prison break. I’m out.” I pushed past the girl and strode out of the library, back onto the street.

The last thing I needed was to be caught doing a crime, so I didn’t look back. Getting arrested would undo all the effort I’d put into faking my death, and I would find myself alive and kicking in some stupid jail cell, probably on Vander’s Edge. That would be worse than serving as a bridge officer under some asshole captain.

I was halfway to the bottom of the space elevator before I realized I had no idea what to do next.

I had enough untraceable credits hidden away to support myself for a long time, but the whole point of this exercise was to get that map. Hell, I was willing to part with every credit I had to get my hands on it. Then I could start atoning for some of the crap I’d done.

“Darla!” Red shouted as she ran down the street after me. “Please wait.”

I cringed. I didn’t need Red to make a scene and draw attention to me. I turned and waited for her. “I’m not about to commit crimes for strangers.”

“There’s no crime,” she said. Her cheeks had gone as red as her hair. “I mean, it’s not a prison break…and there’s no crime.”

“Then why go to Vander’s Edge?”

She looked down at her feet, and her shoulders lifted and fell with her next breath. “My dad’s there.”

“Regular shuttles go there to bring in family to visit,” I said.

She bit her lip. “They go once a month, and I missed the last one by a day.”

“A month isn’t that long to wait.” My patience was running out. I needed to get off this backwater world. I turned and continued toward the space elevator station.

Red fell into step beside me. “My dad’s pardon just came through, and I don’t want him to have to wait.”

“Why come to me?”

“Theo65 said you’d be discreet,” she said. “Then we’ll all go to the Habitat.”

I stopped. “The Habitat?”

I’d heard of the place, a supposed utopia somewhere in the Foxtrot System. Based on the media hype, it was the place to live, as perfect as anything humans had ever designed. Personally, I’d always figured there would be too many rules for my taste.

“That’s where the map is.”

“Why would anyone living a perfect life need a map to Old Earth?”

Red shrugged.

“And flying your dad out of jail after his release is all it takes for me to access one of the most exclusive human places?”

“Yes.”

I frowned. “I suspect I’m going to end up regretting this.”

Chapter 8

Darla — Seventeen years ago

The scent of butter and garlic filled the air, making Darla’s mouth water. Mol’s Diner always had the best food: honest, human-made food without the pretension of what the chefs on the Garden Princess made.

“Two lentil soups,” she said to the robotic server as she slid into the booth across from Vi. The vinyl upholstery groaned under her weight, but the seat was comfortable. “Alone at last.”

Vi sighed. “But it’s soon back to the grind.”

“We’ll be together.” Darla smiled, delighted Norman hadn’t joined them. She stared into Vi’s dark, enticing eyes, wondering for the millionth time why Vi had chosen her.

“Help me create a better future for us,” Vi pleaded, gazing at Darla’s face.

Darla was taken aback by Vi’s desperation. What was so wrong with their present? She swallowed, but if this was something Vi was passionate about, it was worth doing. “I’ll help, but we need to be very, very smart about it. One wrong move, and we could permanently destroy our lives.”

Vi put a hand on her stomach. “I know.”

Darla’s eyebrows pulled together. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I must have eaten something on New Haven that didn’t agree with me.”

Darla nodded, still studying the face of the woman she loved. Vi wasn’t telling her something. To make conversation, she said, “This is the seventh time we’ve had our predeparture meal in this diner.”

“You would keep track.” Vi smiled and looked around.

Following Vi’s gaze, Darla took in the diner. Cutesy decor covered every surface, ranging from the black and white squares on the floor to the posters of people and their old-fashioned wheeled cars that graced the walls.

“I always liked this place in a bittersweet kinda way.” A wistful expression filled Vi's face. “But as soon as we finish our pie, we always have to go straight back to work.”

“Yeah,” Darla said.

“Perhaps this can be the last time we’re here working for someone else. At least I hope that’s the case.”

“But tell me…why bring Norman into it?”

Vi shifted in her seat and didn’t meet Darla’s eyes. “Norman has more access to the ship than you do. We need to target something worth stealing, something good enough we can walk away forever.”

“Are you certain we can trust him? He’s an arrogant putz.”

“I trust him almost as much as I trust you.”

“Almost as much?”

Vi shrugged, then took Darla’s hand into her own. “Don’t worry about him. Let’s focus on our new opportunities.”

Darla nodded as an unsettled knot formed in her gut.

The next morning, in her cabin on the Garden Princess, Darla studied herself in the mirror. Her shift started in half an hour, but she was ready. Her dark-green uniform with its gold trim highlighted her Amazonian stature and her short-cropped flaxen hair. She gave herself a satisfied smile.

“I look stunning.”

Soon the Garden Princess would depart Jupiter Station and start its journey through the gates. This time its destination was New Venus and its city of floating islands. Seven Soaring Swans was the kind of place its wealthy passengers craved. And one of them might have what she and Vi needed to change their lives, just like Vi said.

Leaving her cabin on the crew deck, Darla headed to the port-side elevator bank. She didn’t take the direct one to the bridge; instead she headed up to the passenger deck.

A wonderland of colours and textures greeted her as she entered the ship’s main atrium. The gentle patter of the multideck waterfall muted conversations and added a sense of intimacy to the large space. The pool of water at the bottom glistened a deep blue. Exotic plants gathered from all over the galaxy filled the planters along each deck, and scalloped balconies allowed guests private alcoves to take in the view.

“Excuse me.” A compact man in a high-end suit stopped Darla. He held a blue case, the kind designed to house valuable artifacts. “Are you the captain?”

Darla smiled. “Someday I’ll be the captain of my own ship. Now, though, Captain Kassinger is in charge of the Garden Princess. I’m part of the bridge crew.”

The man nodded. “Then maybe you can help me.”

“Absolutely.”

“Does this ship have a vault?”

“Each cabin has its own vault. Your steward can set you up.” Darla pointed to his case. “Is that what you wish to store?”

The man smiled. Not for the first time, Darla wished she had a pair of AR goggles that would tell her who everyone was, but wearing that sort of tech was against ship policies.

“My sister is sending me to have this appraised at one of the auction houses on Seven Soaring Swans.” He leaned in closer. “She won’t be happy with me if something happens to it.”

Darla nodded. “I have a sister who’s quick to be disappointed in me too. I’d be happy to send one of our technicians to your cabin to ensure your vault is functioning properly.”

“That would be excellent,” he said.

“What is your name, sir?”

“Ah, please forgive my rudeness. I should have introduced myself at the start. I’m Haoyu Long, and my cabin is number sixty-seven on the Peony deck.”

“I’m Lieutenant Oswiu. I’m about to go on watch, but I’ll arrange for someone to come to your cabin within the hour.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as Darla was out of view, she darted into an emergency stairwell and messaged the details of Haoyu and his case to Vi, who promised to be the technician responding to check on Haoyu’s safe.

Much later, Darla smiled when Vi returned to their cabin. “Is it something good?

Vi put down her toolbox and rubbed her hands down the sides of her maintenance jumpsuit. “More than good. Haoyu’s case is exactly the kind of thing we’re looking for.” Vi grinned. “I can’t believe we got this lucky so quickly.”

“That’s great,” Darla said, pulling Vi into her lap. “You are the only person in the universe I’d plot a crime with.”

Vi threw back her head and laughed.

Chapter 9

Norman — Four months ago

Norman sighed. He wasn't in the mood for chess, but skipping it might upset the guards. He took in a deep breath of the frigid air and moved a pawn a single square.

Across from him, Haoyu moved his pawn two squares forward. “I heard you had a visitor.”

“I did.” Norman looked out at the horizon, uncertain how to feel about his visitor. “The girl said she’s my daughter.” Which was no doubt true—the girl looked like her mother. But why was she showing up in his life now? Norman pressed his lips together and moved a second pawn.

“I assume ‘the girl’ has a name.” Haoyu moved another piece, but Norman was no longer paying attention to the game.

“She said her name is Red.” Norman frowned at the barely started chess game. “Who names their daughter Red?”

Haoyu leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Obviously, you know the mother.”

“I did once. Her name is Virginia Akter. The similarity between mother and daughter is uncanny.” Norman gave up on the chess game and met Haoyu’s gaze. “Do you have any kids?”

“No, just oodles of nieces and nephews. Tell me about Red.”

Norman shrugged. “She seemed nervous about speaking with me. I suspect she’s only just learned her father is a murderer.” He ran a hand over his head. “Plus, she caught me off guard. I’m not sure I took her news the way she expected.”

“Did you dismiss her claim?”

“You know me too well.” Norman put his head in his hands. “She fled. There may have been tears. I think I only proved to her how much of a monster I am. Certainly, I’m not the father she was hoping for.” He sighed.

“It’s not too late,” Haoyu said.

Norman pursed his lips. “Why in the hell wouldn’t Vi warn me the girl was coming here?”

“Family is everything.” Haoyu pointed at Norman. “And you need her in your life. Reach out to Red and apologize.”

Norman stared at him. “I think she’s better off without me.”

“No, she came here for a reason. She needs you, and you need an anchor outside these prison walls.” Haoyu stood. “I’ll make some inquiries and get her contact information, then you’re going to write an apology.”

“I can’t write some formal apology.”

“Of course you can—and you will.” Haoyu met Norman’s gaze. “I’ll be reading it before you send it off.”

Normal let out a long exhale. “Fine.”

“And you’ll be writing it tonight.” Haoyu raised an eyebrow. “I promise to keep hounding you until that letter is written.”

“I said I’ll do it.” Norman crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I know.”

Haoyu took a few steps away before turning back. “Now you have someone on the outside, it’s time to start thinking about getting out of here.” Without waiting for a reply, he headed into the prison, leaving Norman alone on the roof save for one omnipresent guard.

Norman let his focus settle on the surrounding mountains. What did he have to offer Red? What would make her want any connection to a father with a life sentence? It wasn’t like he could go to her high school graduation or anything. After seventeen years of hearing nothing from Virginia, why had she told their girl about him? Why hadn’t she told him seventeen years ago that she was pregnant? Things could have turned out so much different.

His eyes fixed on the chessboard where only the pawns had been played.

Chapter 10

Darla — Present day

Certain I was making a huge mistake, I followed Red into the elevator station. My life would be altered by this moment. What if she’d lied about the job not being a prison break? What if the news of my continued existence made it back to my enemies, whoever they were? I could either end up in jail or become really, truly dead. It would be wiser to stay hidden for a while, maybe forever.

We each bought our own ticket, which left me wondering what kind of budget Red and her ‘friends’ had. I sighed and headed to the waiting lounge. Overuse had worn out the teal vinyl covering on the benches, causing it to crack and split in several places. The worst part was everything looked sticky, as unsanitary as the diner. I shivered.

Lucky for me, the elevator car sat waiting like a loyal steed to an absent knight. I didn’t need to debate if I dared sit in the waiting room. As I walked into the car, it became instantly clear I’d be forced to settle for a snack instead of enjoying a proper meal, as this elevator car was so basic it didn’t include a restaurant. (To be fair, 99 percent of all space elevators didn’t have restaurants.) I vowed that any future schedule must include enough time for decent food in sit-down establishments; I was way too old to be doomed to awful food.

As a best bad choice, I bought a big bag of chocolate-covered crickets as soon as we boarded. I’d been on so many of these over the years, all interchangeable, I could be anywhere in the known universe. Each car was circular, encasing the cable and whatever internal mechanisms it required. Toward the centre was a snack bar and the washrooms, and along the rim were the seats—molded plastic, extra uncomfortable, and probably as sticky as the waiting room ones.

The cleanliness of public transportation reflected the wealth of the world. I’d already spotted trash brushed up against the walls and grimy fingerprints on most surfaces. I tugged my goggles over my eyes and activated my proximity alert algorithm. Only a handful of other travelers entered the car, but they all looked dodgy. I didn’t want anyone sneaking up on me, and I sure as hell didn’t want to end up dead. Mild paranoia had kept me alive this long, so I’d keep with it.

With Red following in my wake, I headed to a seat by the window, one with a support pillar at the back. I dropped my backpack to the floor and sank into the seat with a long sigh. Red plopped down across from me.

“Who are you working with?” I asked as I opened my bag of snacks. The sweet and savoury scent made my mouth water.

For a moment her jaw went slack, then she said, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t look like the type of kid with the cash to rent a shuttle.” I pointed at the hole in the knee of her pants—the worn-out kind of hole, not a fashion choice.

She crossed her legs, hiding the hole. “A friend of my father’s is paying for the shuttle.”

“Someone from the Habitat?” I tossed a handful of chocolate-coated crickets in my mouth, savouring their satisfying crunch. At least the snack was good.

Red shook her head.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Right. What are you not telling me?”

“It’s a simple job, I swear.”

I couldn’t shake off the sense that she seemed familiar, as if we had crossed paths before. But I had avoided meeting new people for years, so this seemed like an impossibility. However, I couldn’t rationalize away the odd, familiar quality she held.

I shrugged. “In that case, I’m taking a nap.” I leaned back, looped a backpack strap around my ankle, then darkened my goggles.

Chapter 11

Hakkun — 723 years ago

As Hakkun waited for Sonja to answer his call, he tapped a foot on the floor, a rhythmic cadence that mirrored the thumping of his heart. Time slowed as if the universe conspired to prolong his agony. Countless scenarios raced through his mind, some hopeful, most not. Uncertainty gnawed at him, causing his stomach to churn.

Then she answered his call, and his tension melted away. The image that popped up on his screen was mostly darkness with only hints of light.

“Sonja?” he whispered as he leaned as close as he could to the screen. The image moved, becoming bright for a moment, then dark again.

He swallowed and checked the connection—it was good. A noise across the bridge drew his attention. Every muscle in his body tensed. But it was another officer coming on shift, not the captain. So far no one on the bridge, besides Julia, seemed aware of what he was doing. True to her word, Julia positioned herself to block everyone’s view.

He returned his attention to the screen. “Sonja, are you there?” He kept his voice low. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Hakkun?”

All Hakkun’s tension washed away at the sound of his wife’s voice.

“Did you reach the ship? Is Minjun okay?” The image shifted to show Sonja’s round face. Deep shadows obscured her features.

“Minjun has already made a friend, and yes, we got here fine.” Hakkun smiled. “Where are you?”

Sonja glanced at something off screen. “I’m in the back of a coffee shop near the elevator. The streets are filled with protesters, and I want to remain hidden until it’s my turn to take the elevator.”

Hakkun swallowed as all his worry returned. The deep lines between Sonja’s eyebrows hinted the situation was much worse than she was telling him, but there wasn’t time to delve. “Can you make it to the station?”

“I think so.”

“I need you to go now. Get on an earlier car.”

“What’s going on?” Sonja moved closer to her camera, her face becoming blurry.

Behind him, the captain shouted at one of the crew as he walked onto the bridge. Julia bumped him with her elbow. “Time’s up.”

“I need you to get on an earlier car,” Hakkun repeated, keeping his voice low.

“Navigator, how are those projections coming?” the captain said.

Hakkun turned to see the captain scowling at him. “I’ll be done in a minute, sir.”

“The situation down there continues to deteriorate. We need those navigation solutions ASAP.” The captain strode to the windows.

“Please get up here as soon as you can. The ship might leave early.”

Sonja’s lips formed an O.

“Minjun needs you. I need you,” Hakkun whispered just as his link cut out.

“You need to get that plotting done,” Julia said at his side. She had cut the comms link.

“I…” Hakkun let his words trail off, then sighed.

“You’ve done all you can. She’ll make it.”

Five hours later the captain released Hakkun from duty to get a few hours’ sleep. The captain said they would reconsider their departure at midnight. Not a single elevator car had left the surface since he’d spoken to Sonja.

“They let you go,” Iris said as Hakkun entered his new home. She stood from where she’d been knitting on the couch.

“Yeah,” he said, too tired to even look around his new living room. Until Sonja arrived, it wouldn’t be his home.

“Minjun is asleep. I didn’t want to leave him alone on his first night.” Iris smiled and put her knitting in a bag.

“Thank you. Unfortunately, I may have to head back to the bridge soon.” He slumped down on the sofa.

“Is it that bad?”

“The port authority projects that the protests will turn into riots. Plus, there have been vague threats to the ship.” He ran a hand over his face. “No one knows what’s going to happen.”

Iris bit her lip. “That explains why the ship’s news feeds shut down. They’re deliberately keeping us in the dark.”

Hakkun nodded. “It’s because they don’t want us to panic.”

“Where’s Minjun’s mother?”

“She isn’t here yet.” Hakkun didn’t say he’d tried three more times to get through to her without success. Was she still hiding in the coffee shop? Did she make it to the station? He swallowed.

“In that case I’ll grab a few things and sleep on your couch,” Iris said. “I wouldn’t want Minjun to wake up alone if you’re called to the bridge.”

“Thank you.”

After Iris left, Hakkun went into the first bedroom. Minjun lay curled up in his bed, wearing his favourite Hank the Hippo pajamas. In sleep the little boy looked tiny and vulnerable. He needed his mother. A lump formed in Hakkun’s throat. He needed Sonya too.

Hakkun removed his boots and tunic before crawling into bed beside his son. From the living room, he heard Iris return, then to his surprise he dozed off.

Less than an hour later, he woke to an unfamiliar buzzing. Hakkun crawled out of bed and went to the living room.

“The captain called,” said a groggy Iris as she rubbed her eyes. “He needs you on the bridge.”

“Did something happen?”

“I don’t know, but he sounded worried.”

Hakkun frowned, glancing at the room where Minjun slept.

“I’ll be here,” Iris said. “You don’t need to worry.”

Hakkun nodded. “Thank you.” As much as he didn’t want to leave Minjun, duty called, and maybe there would be news from Sonja.

As he hurried through the corridors, he glimpsed his reflection, noticing the state of his rumpled uniform. Normally he took great pride in his appearance, but in that moment, the possibility of reaching Sonja consumed his thoughts. Deciding his uniform didn’t matter, Hakkun quickened his pace.

As soon as the elevator opened at the back of the bridge, he raced toward his station. The air was thick with desperation as crew members hurriedly moved about, their voices overlapping in a chaotic cacophony. Flashing lights on the control panels added to the sense of urgency, reflected on the worried faces of the crew.

As he made his way through the bustling chaos, he caught snippets of conversation, words of concern, and demands for updates. Circling the edge of the crowd, he finally reached his workstation. He settled in his seat, ready to work. Next to him Julia stared at her screen.

“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“Protesters on the spaceport.” She was pale, and in the hour since he’d left, dark bags had formed under her eyes. “They’re here, in space.”

Hakkun frowned. It was possible Sonja was at the spaceport or already aboard the ship. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe…

A shudder reverberated through the ship, sending a wave of unease through Hakkun. His hope dissipated. His eyes locked onto the main screen just as kilometres of cable detached from the port. The severed end hovered, seemingly defying gravity’s pull for a moment before succumbing to its relentless force. As it plummeted, the cable thrashed wildly, slicing the air with the menace of an enraged serpent.

“Seal the ship and prepare for departure.” The captain took his seat, his expression hard.

“What just happened?” Julia asked.

“Working on it,” came a voice from the other side of the bridge.

Generation Ship 12 trembled again. The space elevator’s cable crashed into Earth, leaving a gouge like a scar winding across the urban landscape. Seconds later a massive plume of dust rose up and obscured the view.

Hakkun couldn’t breathe as he kept his gaze fixed on the planet-side end of the space elevator.

Chapter 12

Darla — Seventeen years ago

After inventing an excuse to slip away early from the Garden Princess’s traditional departure cocktail party, Darla raced to their quarters. Vi greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“This should get you into Mr. Long’s stateroom.” Vi placed a keycard in Darla’s palm.

Darla turned over the square in her hand, evidence their plan had become something real.

“He has tickets to tonight’s performance, which should give you plenty of time to swap his case for this.” Vi pulled out a blue case from the closet shelf; it was identical to the one Darla had seen Haoyu Long with earlier.

She tested the weight in her hand. It felt solid. “Did you 3D print it?”

“Yeah. I pulled images from when our mark boarded the ship. It’s a perfect replica, except the lock isn’t going to open for him.” Vi looked proud of herself.

Darla snaked an arm around Vi’s waist and pulled her in tight. “You are brilliant,” she whispered before kissing her.

Vi smiled and tapped Darla’s nose with her finger. “Something you don’t recognize enough.”

“Is this when I compliment you on your modesty too?” Darla raised an eyebrow, and Vi laughed before pulling away.

“The keycard will get you into the safe as well.”

“Have you talked to Norman?” Darla missed the warmth of Vi in her arms.

“Yeah, he’s going to keep watch in case our mark leaves the show early.” Vi’s voice was calm and reassuring, but there was an underlying tension in her words.

Darla took a deep breath. Her part in this plan was straightforward but held the most risk. “What about the steward AIs? Or the hallway cameras?”

“I took care of them.” Vi smiled. “You worry too much.”

Darla snorted as she peered at the case. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her gaze between the lock and Vi. “This is my first venture into crime.”

“And it will be your last, I promise.”

Darla swallowed her fear. “So how do I open Mr. Long’s case?”

Vi handed her a small device about the size of her thumb. “Just wave this over the lock.”

“That simple?” Darla’s question lingered as she got a good look at the device. A small blue light blinked on its edge. She knew what it was. She let out a low whistle as she realized there were many things she didn’t know about Vi. “This is banned tech. Where did you get it? Just possessing it could get us thrown in jail.”

Vi shrugged. “It’s time to get to work. In less than twenty-four hours, the three of us will be off to start our new lives.”

Darla did her best to act casual as she strode along Peony deck carrying the replica case. Around her, the ship was dead silent, as if the universe held its breath. The heavy thumping of Darla’s heart seemed to echo through the halls like a drum line marching to war. To make matters worse, a desert buried in sand had more moisture than her mouth.

She stopped at the door with the number sixty-seven embossed in gold. This was Haoyu Long’s cabin, the poor sod they’d targeted. To the best of her knowledge, he was doing a favour for his big sister. She’d even liked him when they met. She almost felt bad. No, she had to admit, she did feel bad. Then she reminded herself she was doing this to give Vi the life she wanted—the life she deserved.

Darla’s hand shook as she held the keycard, but she managed to swipe it without looking too odd. Like Vi had promised, the door opened without complaint. Darla licked her lips, knowing crossing the threshold of the cabin meant there was no backing out. Getting away from having a boss was worth the risk—or so she hoped. She stepped inside, and the door slid closed behind her.

Unlike the crew quarters, this cabin was more like a stateroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows along one side exposed a panoramic view of the local stars, each shining like a snowflake millions of light-years away.

High-end cream-coloured faux leather covered two love seats. Eucalyptus mingled with notes of vanilla and bergamot in the air, combining with the peaceful hum of an air recycler doing its job. In an alcove was a king-size bed. The quilt was a crisscross dazzle of diamonds and squares, rich in gradations of red and gold.

“Probably hand-embroidered by blind children,” she said as she strode to the bed and sat. It was soft, like sinking into freshly fallen snow. She took a deep breath and looked around. Haoyu was clearly the kind of passenger the crew preferred—clean and tidy. He hadn’t left out a single personal item.

The ping of Darla’s comms device jolted her, breaking the silence. It was Norman, and his voice carried a sense of urgency.

“Our mark is almost back to his cabin. Tell me you’re out of there.”

Panic surged through Darla. “What?” She scanned the cabin frantically for a hiding place, her heart racing. “You have to stall him!”

In the first closet she opened, Haoyu’s clothing was hung up or folded on the shelves—yep, he was a neat freak.

“Crap.” She opened the emergency locker and eyed the cramped space with the spacesuits. There wasn’t much room—and Darla wasn’t a small human—but she had no choice.

She squeezed herself and the case into the confined space, barely fitting. Her breath came in short gasps as she closed the closet door, plunging herself into darkness as she heard the main door slide open.

Darla flipped off the comms device to make sure it didn’t make a sound and settled against the back wall. She could hear Haoyu moving about in his cabin, but he wouldn’t need to open this compartment—she hoped.

Haoyu turned on some music, something with sad notes Darla didn’t recognize. The melancholic melody added to her unease. Then the door chime sounded.

“Hello?” Haoyu’s voice was audible through the thin closet door.

“Good evening.” Norman’s smooth tone followed. “Care to join me for a nightcap in the forward lounge?”

Darla shifted slightly, for once grateful Norman had shown up.

“It’s Commander Butterworth, right?”

“That’s correct,” Norman replied. “Do you play chess?”

Darla rolled her eyes in the darkness. Trust Norman to use any tactic to buy time, including his knowledge of ancient games. (No doubt he’d be bragging tomorrow about how he’d saved the day.) She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping Vi would agree to ditch the numpty as soon as this was over. It would be so much better with just the two of them.

“I do,” Haoyu replied.

Norman continued, “I keep a set behind the bar in the lounge. Will you join me for a match?”

The silence drew on, and Darla could picture Norman’s smug face.

“I accept,” Haoyu said. “But I must warn you, I’m a master at the game.”

“Then you just might be a worthy opponent.”

A moment later the outside door slid closed. Darla assumed Haoyu had gone with Norman. Otherwise… Well, she didn’t want to think about the alternative. Holding her breath, she opened the closet door and peered around. The cabin was empty once again.

This time she didn’t dillydally. She walked straight to the safe. Of course, it opened just like Vi had said it would. Darla swapped the cases and fled.

Forcing herself not to run, she left the Peony deck via the port emergency stairwell and headed for the bowels of the ship. With each step, her footfalls on the metal stairs seemed louder and louder. Pausing at the third platform, she turned and looked up. Even though she spent an hour each day in the exercise facility, each breath came with a heave, and her legs felt wobbly.

“Maybe a life of crime isn’t for me,” she whispered.

After ensuring the stairwell above was empty, she continued down at a more relaxed pace. This time, with each step, she considered returning the case. It wasn’t too late. But Vi would be disappointed in her, and that mattered to Darla.

She continued past the passenger decks and exited on the first utility deck—the one that contained crew escape pods. In this section, the corridor was industrial, lacking the upscale interiors of the passenger decks above.

She opened escape pod sixty-one and stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she took a seat and set the case on her lap.

Vi’s device opened the lock without issue, and Hank the Hippo’s smiling face greeted Darla. It was an ancient notebook, crinkled and faded with age. She let out a low whistle as she picked it up.

The notebook wasn’t in a protective case. Being careful not to bend the cover, she opened it to the first page. Bold capital letters read, ‘Property of Minjun Lee.’ A crude smiley face grinned beneath the text. Below that, in scrawling script, was written, ‘Fatima, close this book now. If I catch you with it, I’ll send your favourite stuffy out an airlock.’

Darla smiled as she wondered what age Minjun was when he wrote it. And who was Fatima? A sister? A friend?

The next few pages were filled with drawings of a generation ship and happy faces within. On each page, a woman, smiling yet teary-eyed, stood alone amid the stars.

A clunk outside the escape pod drew Darla’s attention, and she shoved the notebook into the case and closed it.

The door to the escape pod opened, and a technician ducked his head in.

“Oh,” he said, putting a hand on his heart. “You scared me.”

Darla recognized him but couldn’t put a name to his wide face. “Sorry.” She stood and tugged down her tunic. “The captain asked me to do some spot checks of the escape pods.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Of course. I was just doing my routine inspections. Do you have any concerns?”

“No, everything here seems in order.” Darla struggled to speak normally with such a dry mouth. “Which pods have you already completed?”

“I’ve finished with all the pods on this deck, starboard side.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Heat rose in Darla’s face—deception had never been her strength. “How often do you perform these inspections?”

“Once a week. However, we’ll be docked at New Venus before the next scheduled rounds. I think we’ll do a more thorough maintenance check instead.”

“Excellent.”

“Do you require anything more of me?” he asked.

“No, that will be all. Carry on with your rounds.” Keeping the case handle gripped tighter than necessary, Darla passed the technician and strode down the corridor until she was out of sight.

Leaning on the wall, she released a long exhale.

“I should put the case back. There’s still time.”

She let her head tip back until it rested on the wall and closed her eyes. The thought of seeing Vi’s face filled with disappointment after telling her the heist was off was unbearable.

“Gotta grumble on, I guess. It’s only a couple of days to New Venus, then it’ll all be over.” Darla stood up straight, then headed to the starboard side of the ship to stash the case in a different escape pod, just in case.

When she got there, she followed Vi’s instructions and locked the pod out of the ship’s systems. This way she could launch manually. It was just a precaution, as only a fool would leave the ship on an escape pod unless it was an emergency. But doing it left her feeling slightly more settled. Now she needed to find a drink of water—or maybe something harder.

Chapter 13

Darla — Present day

Despite getting only a few hours of sleep on the train, napping eluded me on the space elevator. After fifteen minutes I gave up and tried to distract myself with the artifacts coming up for auction at Seven Soaring Swans, but I couldn’t focus on the projections my goggles showed me. With a sigh, I let my goggles go clear and looked around. Reality was, as always, a disappointment.

We were high enough now the curvature of the planet below was visible. Its boring grey surface continued as far as I could see. Not even a mountain range broke the view. It was hardly an inviting world. There must have been valuable minerals beneath the surface to draw people in, but I hadn’t bothered to investigate what they were mining. I just didn’t care.

That was when I realized I was sitting alone. Red was gone. I scanned the area, but there was no sign of her.

“Red?” I said, my voice catching in my throat. She didn’t answer—because she’d vanished. “Shit. This is already going sideways.”

I stood and slung my backpack over one shoulder. It would be another hour or so until we got to the space station, and the car was basically an open doughnut around the cable. There was literally nowhere for her to go.

Scanning the car, my paranoia radar blared at full volume. Two men three seats over were eyeing me with nefarious intent. My heart raced as I tagged them. If I spotted them again, the AI in my goggles would identify them faster than you could say, “Tinfoil hat.”

I began to walk, my eyes darting from person to person. Every few steps, I’d spot another group of suspicious characters looking away. I tagged everyone who seemed off (which was most of the passengers).

After doing a circuit of the car, I stopped and put my hands on my hips.

“You lost?” a woman wearing the elevator company’s vest asked. I fixed my gaze on her, then tagged her too.

“I was traveling with a young woman…” I cut off my sentence as Red exited the restroom door. Ugh, I must have looked like such an idiot! My face flushed, no doubt brighter than a tomato.

The elevator employee shrugged and wandered off just as Red reached me.

“What, did you think I jumped?” she asked as she beelined for the seats we’d used before. I followed.

“I don’t know you,” I said in a near growl. “Meaning I have no idea what to expect from you.”

“Fine. Let’s get to know each other.” She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “Where did you grow up?”

I sank into the seat across from her. “New Haven. You?”

“In the Habitat, of course.”

I snorted. “How does a convict’s child come to be raised there?”

Red shrugged. “I guess my mom’s got connections.”

“Must have been an ideal childhood, living in that perfect utopia.”

Red laughed softly, a twinkle of nostalgia in her eyes. “It was pretty close to perfect. The Habitat is beautiful and safe. Plus it has every modern convenience. My mom loved it there—she still does. She said it’s the only place she ever felt safe.”

Stifling a yawn, I reminded myself that the purpose of this was to get to know the girl. I should pretend to be curious. I needed the girl to warm up to me. “Tell me more about the Habitat.”

Red leaned back in her seat and sighed. “My mom always said it was a little slice of paradise—not just because of all the amazing things there but because everyone felt comfortable.”

My internal voice said, “Yeah, right.” “But…you left,” I said aloud.

Red’s expression changed as she shifted her focus to the window. “Yeah, I did.” Her tone was guarded.

I didn’t ask anything further.

A jerk of the car signalled we had arrived (and that the space elevator needed serious maintenance). Our fellow passengers had already gathered at the exit when Red and I arrived. Everyone around us had an air of practicality; their clothing looked stodgy and clearly hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in weeks. It seemed like the folks living on this backwater planet had no time for anything but turning resources into something usable—not even cleaning their clothes. And they smelled just like you’d expect.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I pushed through the small crowd with Red in my wake. We passed through to the station’s main concourse. Once away from any strangers, I stopped and faced my companion.

“Have you already rented a shuttle?” I hoped Red was ready to talk again, because I needed details.

“My friend has one we can use,” she said.

I frowned. “If your friend has a shuttle, why aren’t they flying you to get your dad?”

Red shrugged, not meeting my gaze. “He’s a businessman. I never asked why he couldn’t do it.”

I didn’t believe her for a second and pressed further. “Did you ask permission to use his shuttle?” I didn’t want to add shuttle theft to my list of crimes.

Red narrowed her eyes as her gaze met mine. “Are you implying I’m lying?”

“I’m just confirming facts.” This job seemed dodgy. I had enough credits to live a comfortable life somewhere. I didn’t need the work. But I needed that map. Well, I really wanted it, and I’d been hunting for it for decades. I sighed. “I’m hungry.”

Without waiting for Red, I headed to an open noodle place that wafted garlic and chili scents into the concourse. Inside, I ignored the escaped cricket that skidded across the floor and took a seat at a table by the window.

A few minutes later, Red entered, stopping at the door. She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. As soon as she spotted me, I shrugged and gestured to the seat across from me. The restaurant was quiet. Only a few patrons lingered at tables or ordered noodle boxes to go.

Red sat and sighed. “I really do need your help.” She bit her lip. I still had no idea why I should trust her.

“Tell me why you left the Habitat.”

She closed her eyes briefly, as if bracing herself for the conversation, then stared straight at me. “It just wasn’t working out. I had to get away before things got too bad there.” She paused, glancing away before continuing. “It’s complicated, but I can’t go back right now.”

I studied her as she spoke; something didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it—yet.

“There are plenty of pilots out there.” I scanned the few people passing by outside, my goggles flagging the folks from the elevator car. Nothing seemed amiss, so I ordered and paid for a bowl of noodles, extra spicy, from the holographic menu.

“I know, but Theo65 assures me you’re the right person. They told me you’re looking for a change. Maybe my friend will permanently hire you as a pilot.”

I huffed. The last thing I needed was a ‘businessman’ as my boss.

“How long until they let your dad out of jail?” I asked as a robot rolled over with my steaming bowl of noodles. The spicy, pungent scent made my mouth water.

“In five days. The shuttle is waiting for us at the Seven Soaring Swans spaceport,” Red said.

I nodded. “You and I are going to stick out there.”

I’d been to New Venus’s only city multiple times. I had a handful of contacts on the Island of Curiosity who happily accepted my surplus artifacts. The sprawling neo-Greek city was shinier and more contrived than a child’s jewelry box. With our shabby clothes, we’d stand out like neon signs in a pitch-black desert. I doubted they’d let the two of us set foot on the spaceport dressed as we were. On the plus side, a bakery tucked away on one of the islands produced sublime cinnamon buns.

“Their law-enforcement AI is going to flag us the moment we set foot on their station.”

Red frowned and stared at her worn clothing. “You know a workaround, right?” She bit her lip.

“I do.”

With a slurp that probably left a chili stain on my cheek, I finished my noodles, leaving only a skim of broth at the bottom of the bowl. I let out a sigh. The noodles had been excellent—the first proper meal I’d had in days. (The crappy breakfast at the diner didn’t count.) I debated ordering a second bowl.

“So what do we do now?”

I looked up at Red. “I assume we’re taking a public ferry to get there.”

“Yes,” she said.

“When does it leave?” It was dawning on me I hadn’t slept in an actual bed for days.

She checked her wrist display. “There’s a ferry leaving in an hour.”

“You don’t even have tickets.” It was a statement of fact. The girl seemed sheltered, which I guessed one would be if they grew up in a utopian world like the Habitat. I pulled up the ferry schedule on the table’s holographic system. “There’s one leaving in the morning, and I need a proper night’s sleep.”

“We need to stick to the plan.” Red glanced at her hands for a moment, then back at me. “I mean, we can’t be late.”

I raised an eyebrow, and Red nibbled her bottom lip again.

“The morning ferry will get us there with time to spare.”

I glanced out the window and into the spaceport’s main concourse. There was a hotel directly across from us, probably the sole establishment here. Whoever had designed the place had high aspirations—they’d even added a courtyard with a floor and walls resembling stone if one didn’t get too close. An uninspiring array of foliage filled the space, likely doing nothing to help with air quality. Bar tables extended into the woeful garden and were already occupied.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get a room.”

I rented us a single room. I could easily have afforded two, but I wanted to keep my eye on Red. She was hiding something from me.

After a proper shower (where I brought all my belongings into the bathroom with me), I ran my clothes through the room’s cleaner, then converted my nanite clothing into fuzzy pants and a hoodie—much more comfortable. I’d forgotten my default program had Hank the Hippo printed across the front of the hoodie. It looked childish, but I was too lazy to change it.

“So are you a farmer?” I asked as I claimed the bed by the window overlooking the courtyard. Wasn’t everyone at the Habitat a farmer? As far as I knew they were living an idyllic subsistence life there.

Red shrugged.

“Let me guess. Your clothes are actually woven.”

I wasn’t aware of a nanite gear program with so many frayed ends. Although woven clothing was fashionable now, Red’s were beyond any trend. She took off her jacket, exposing a knit sweater, again with frayed cuffs and neckline.

“I don’t live at the Habitat anymore,” she said. “I want to do something else.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. I was starting to think it was her default gesture.

Not caring enough to pull more details out of the girl, I set my backpack beside my bed and lay down. It was a low-end mattress, but it was miles better than the chair I’d slept on the night before. “Good night,” I said, keeping my goggles on with the proximity alarm active.

Chapter 14

Red — Present day

Red lay on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling. Darla snored loudly on the bed beside her. Hiring that woman was starting to seem like a bad idea. Her excessive height and how she held herself with the posture of a slouching bear, looming over and disapproving of everyone around her. Worst of all, she was paranoid.

After Darla let out a particularly loud sigh, Red debated sneaking out. She could message Haoyu. He could come up with a better plan—one that didn’t need Darla.

She got out of bed, went to the window, and peeked out at the station’s concourse. No doubt the security guard who’d robbed her was still on the station somewhere. Losing that money was a big blow to the plan. She bit her lip. How was she going to afford the ferry to Seven Soaring Swans now? She pulled out her remaining credits and counted them. If she didn’t eat on the way, she had just enough for a single ferry ticket—just for a seat, not a bunk.

Checking on her datapad, she confirmed the ferry would take three days to get to her destination. Maybe Haoyu would wire some credits—or not. She’d lost all the money he’d given her.

“I’m such a failure,” she whispered to herself. She’d been out on her own for only a short time, and already she’d failed. Maybe her mom was right, and she wasn’t cut out for independence.

Behind her, another sigh broke Darla’s endless stream of snores. Red spun around, afraid she’d woken the other woman. Darla resumed snoring, only louder.

As she relaxed, Red’s gaze landed on Darla’s pack on the ground beside her bed. Red scrunched her face as her thoughts went to the last conversation she’d had with her mom, almost two weeks ago.

That day Red had sat on the bench outside the Habitat’s admin building, watching mud drip off her boots. Then she’d stared at where the bogs were, wishing she could see through the forcefield that protected and hid the Habitat. She sighed. She wouldn’t be going out again today—maybe ever—because she’d finally been caught.

She’d bit her lip when her mom exited the building. Virginia Atker looked more than angry.

“I can’t believe you’ve been cutting class to wade in the muck,” Virginia had said, pointing to the forcefield.

Red had shrugged. “I have the top grades in the school, so why does it matter if I’m there?”

Virginia’s expression had darkened even further. “I’m not going to sanction you cutting class.”

Red had looked away. This argument was like all their arguments. Her mother never listened to her point of view.

“I think it’s time for you to start an apprenticeship.”

“I graduate next week.” Red had returned her gaze to her mom. “I’m going to university.”

It was like her mother hadn’t heard her. “I talked with Francis at the train station. They’re willing to take you on as an apprentice engineer.”

Red’s eyebrows had pulled together. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You’d get to spend your days traversing those bogs you love so much.”

Red had stared down at her hands. “I think driving a train is your dream.”

“I would have jumped at such an opportunity when I was your age,” Virginia had said.

“It’s not my dream.”

Virginia had let out a loud sigh, the kind she always seemed to save for when she was frustrated with Red. “You’re being unreasonable. Unless farming is your passion, the train is one of the best opportunities in town.”

“I got a full scholarship to Blue Moon University,” Red had said.

“What?” Virginia had sat on the bench next to her daughter, leaving enough space to avoid the pool of mud. “I didn’t even know you’d applied.”

Red had shrugged. “My biology teacher said they have the best microbiology program.”

“But that’s so far away. Why not study micro-whatever at Seven Soaring Swans University? You could attend remotely and work at the research station here. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

“I can’t stay in the Habitat forever,” Red had said.

Virginia had stood, glaring down at her daughter. “You are too young to leave.”

“But—”

Virginia had put up a hand. “There’s no more discussion. You aren’t ready to be out there on your own. Maybe a year from now we can reconsider—so long as I’m not called to the admin offices to get you again.” She’d stormed off, leaving Red sitting alone, dripping with mud.

Later that night Red had packed a bag and left on the next train. She’d left a note for her mom explaining she needed to leave.

In the hotel room, Red let out a long sigh. Her mom hadn’t cared enough to listen. She just didn’t see Red as her own person, almost an adult, looking to forge her future. The last thing Red wanted was to hide away on a remote world, even if it was a ‘utopia.' Fear of the outside world was her mother’s issue, not hers.

Darla let out another loud snort, then rolled over, facing away from Red. Red’s gaze fell on Darla’s bag again. Maybe she had some credits stashed in there. With deliberate slowness, she reached for the bag and pulled it into her lap.

Chapter 15

Darla — Present day

An alarm pulled me from my slumber. I sat up and looked around, my goggles compensating for the low light. On her bed, Red was rummaging through my backpack using a small light. My precious notebook sat beside her as though she’d just tossed it there. At least it was still in its protective cover. Beside it was my model train—the one I’d printed years ago as a gift for Vi.

“Hey!” I growled, my voice rumbling like thunder.

She flinched, her eyes going as wide as saucers. “I… I…” she stammered, unable to finish her sentence.

“You what?” I snatched the backpack from her, but my notebook remained just out of my grasp.

“I’m hungry,” she said in a small voice. “I hoped you still had some of those chocolate-covered crickets somewhere.”

Rage flooded through me. “Bullshit! What were you really looking for?”

“I’m telling the truth, I swear!” She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. I knew she was lying.

In that moment I realized I knew nothing about her. She could be a minion working for Long Enterprises, the group most likely trying to kill me. I pulled out the half-eaten bag of chocolate-covered crickets and handed it to her. Then I grabbed my stuff and reprogrammed the nanites of my clothing into something appropriate for wandering around a spaceport. I stormed out of the hotel room without saying a word.

I leaned forward in the dimly lit comms cubicle, my question hanging in the air. “Who is she, anyway?” My voice carried a mix of suspicion and frustration. In the bustling spaceport, the cubicle off the main concourse was the most private place I could find without renting another room.

Theo65’s avatar, their favourite guise of a grey-skinned alien with comically oversize eyes, flickered onscreen. It was a bizarre choice but one that always lightened my mood despite the seriousness of our conversations.

“I think you’re being paranoid.”

I snorted, unable to suppress a smile despite my annoyance. “Being paranoid has served me well.” My gaze drifted to the small holographic trinkets scattered around our virtual space, each a reminder of past jobs and narrow escapes.

Theo65’s avatar tilted its large head. “I did a full background check on the girl. She hasn’t even been ticketed for littering.”

“She was hunting through my stuff,” I insisted, my frown deepening. The thought of someone rummaging through my belongings had left me unsettled.

The alien avatar nodded, its large eyes blinking slowly. “I hear you’re very attached to your stuff. Did she take anything?”

I’d inventoried my belongings twice. “No.”

“Perhaps she was hungry, exactly like she said.” Theo65 cocked their head.

I frowned and changed the subject. “Do you have any other leads on getting to the Habitat?”

Theo65 paused, their avatar expression unchanging yet somehow conveying thoughtfulness. “Nothing immediate. You could go to ground somewhere. Maybe some information will surface.”

I pressed my lips together as a twinge of disappointment washed over me. Theo65 had been my go-to for information for years, and Red was their first promising lead. Years of pursuing rumours and whispers had led me to believe the Habitat held the elusive map to Old Earth—the unsanctioned star chart I itched to get my hands on.

My gaze returned to Theo65’s avatar. “Keep looking.” Determination laced my voice. “We’re closer than ever.”

Theo65 nodded as their avatar faded from the screen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My quest for the map to Old Earth was more than a personal mission; it was a puzzle I was determined to solve. It was also the goal I’d been using for years to add purpose to my life. I sighed. I could—no, I would—weather this setback.

To remind them how important this was to me, I called Theo65 back. As their avatar appeared, the spaceport shuddered violently. A millisecond later, a loud crack reverberated down the concourse. I sprang to my feet, heart racing and adrenaline surging. The floor tilted beneath me, throwing me off balance. “What the hell!” Something catastrophic was unfolding at the spaceport.

I shifted Theo65 to a projection from my goggles before leaving the little cubicle. Their avatar, reaching barely to my elbow, walked beside me as I headed down the concourse. The air was thick with the acrid reek of smoke, a telltale sign of serious trouble. Eerily, though, no alarms blared.

“What’s going on?” I demanded of a passerby, a man with wide, frightened eyes.

He shook his head and hurried away, his pace quickening to a near run.

“Theo65, search the feeds now!” I barked as I navigated through the growing chaos. People around me were panicking, their hurried steps turning into frantic scrambles.

“The spaceport is under a shelter-in-place order.” Theo65’s voice was steady, a contrast to the surrounding pandemonium.

“Crap!” I pivoted and headed back to the hotel. The thought of Red, unaware and potentially in danger, propelled me forward. Virtual Theo65 kept pace, their small form walking through the crowd at my side.

I dodged a group of frightened travellers, their suitcases abandoned as they sought shelter. The sound of distant sirens filled the air, adding to the sense of urgency.

Images of destruction flashed on the screens lining the concourse. Part of the spaceport’s structure had collapsed, the cause unknown. My mind raced with possibilities: an accident, an attack? I needed to find Red and get us to safety.

“Theo65, keep scanning the feeds.” I dashed on, not yet willing to question why I was going back for a girl I hardly knew, who was definitely lying to me and a proven thief. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

My heart raced as I paused at the edge of the courtyard, surveying the scene. My goggles recognized three individuals from the elevator ride. They were mingling with a growing crowd in front of the hotel, but their body language suggested they were more than casual bystanders. I ducked behind a nearby shuttered food cart, grateful for the cover. Theo65 stayed in full view, but they were viewable only through my goggles.

“Interesting,” they said, their avatar scanning the crowd.

“Can you get a message to Red? Tell her to use a back exit.” My mind raced with possibilities. Were these people here for me? Had my carefully constructed fake death been uncovered?

“Red checked out of the hotel an hour ago,” Theo65 said.

My stomach tightened. “What? Where did she go?”

“She is currently waiting at the ferry terminal.”

“Okay.” That was more gumption than I’d expected out of the girl. I backed out of view of the mob, then began running toward the ferry terminal.

As I navigated the deserted concourse, Theo65 updated me. “Station security is evacuating people from the concourse.”

“Can you buy us ferry tickets to New Venus?” I ran past a bunch of shuttered shops. The area was unnervingly vacant. What was going on?

“The ferry has been diverted,” Theo65 said.

I skidded to a stop. “What?”

“Spaceport security has diverted all public ferries, and the space elevator has been shut down.”

My goggles identified a group of security officers approaching, so I darted into a narrow hallway.

“How do we get off the station?” I stared into Theo65’s black liquid eyes.

“I have an option, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What?”

“A cargo ship is about to leave. I can secure passage for the two of you.”

“Do it.” This was where I should have asked for more information about the cargo ship—specifically, who owned it.

Chapter 16

Norman — Three months ago

Norman inhaled, the crisp air filling his lungs as he gazed at the clear sky. Out here, under the vast expanse, his mind soared free, liberated from the walls of the prison.

“She came back.” A mix of surprise and something softer laced his words. He returned his attention to the chess game, advancing his pawn two spaces.

Haoyu’s smile was gentle, almost teasing. “See, you’re not so scary after all.”

“She said her mom kicked her out.” Norman’s gaze drifted again to the distant mountains. Their stoic presence brought comfort, the only normal thing in this place, a foundation on which he could build something.

Haoyu moved his knight with a practiced hand. “You haven’t told me much about her mother.”

“There’s not much to say. Our affair was brief, then things went sideways.” Norman shrugged. “I’ve been locked away since then.”

“In that case, tell me about the girl.”

Norman hesitated, his gaze still on the mountains. A bud of hope had formed in him that he could build a relationship with his daughter, a hope that remained fragile. But Haoyu had been his friend though thick and thin; he wouldn’t shatter Norman’s hopes. “She wants me to call her ‘Red.’ I’m not sure if that’s her real name or a nickname.”

“Where is she staying now her mother has kicked her out?”

“She has a scholarship to the university on the Blue Moon Colony. She wants to study minerals.” Norman’s eyebrows pulled together. “Or is it plants? Maybe it’s tiny plants.”

Haoyu nodded. “Either leads to good career options.”

“Yeah.” Norman moved his bishop, then leaned back. “I’d transfer her some credits, but I have nothing, and my family hasn’t spoken to me since I was tossed in here.”

“What’s Red’s last name?”

“Probably Akter.”

“I’ll see what I can do for her.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

Norman frowned and moved his king a square back, exposing Haoyu’s queen to his own. “You’d help her?”

Haoyu looked up from the board. “Of course.”

“Even after what happened?”

Haoyu laughed. “That was seventeen years ago. In the decade I’ve been in here with you, I’ve seen you grow. You aren’t the same man who stole from me. And I’d like to think I’m not that petty.”

Norman smiled, grateful Haoyu was his friend, but Haoyu wasn’t the only one he’d wronged that day. “Your family isn’t known for being forgiving.”

“True. My sister likes to keep everyone in line through fear.” Haoyu moved a pawn between the two queens. “And sometimes murder, although she always makes someone else do the dirty work.”

Norman nodded. Pam Long’s reputation reached across the galaxy, even to out-of-the-way prisons like theirs.

“But she’s my sister.”

“You’ve never told me what you did to get stuck here.” Norman gestured to the prison below them. All their fellow inmates’ crimes were violent—in most cases murder—except Haoyu’s.

“You’re right, I haven’t.” Haoyu met Norman’s gaze. “I’d rather not get into the specifics, but I’m here because my sister wanted me out of the way, and she cares enough to let me live. Well, she cares most of the time.”

Norman snorted. “So she stashed you in a maximum security prison. Quite the family you have.”

“It could be worse.” Haoyu smiled. “Pam hasn’t tried to murder me in a while, and I’ve had this daily distraction.” He gestured at the chess game.

“But you’re getting out soon.” Norman moved a rook to the opposite side of the board, cornering Haoyu’s king. The game was over.

“Yes.” He grinned. “Any day now.”

“What’s the first thing on your agenda when you get out?”

“I’m planning to visit Em’s pie shop on Jupiter Station and try a slice of every pie it offers.”

“You’ll be in for a bellyache.” Norman started putting the pieces away in the box.

“Absolutely. It’ll be worth every bite.”

A few hours later, Norman stood behind Haoyu in the hall outside the cafeteria as the guards meticulously counted each inmate, a ritual that never varied. Combined with their daily hour outside, the scheduled meals broke the monotonous routine of the prison day. The rest of the time they were either confined to their cells or put to work in the electronics recycling facility.

“The last good meal I had was on the Garden Princess,” Haoyu said over his shoulder, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Norman nodded as a distant memory of fine dining flickered in his mind. The food on that ship had been excellent. “That’s true for me too.”

The heavy door to the kitchen slid open with a mechanical hiss, signalling the start of their meal. The line shuffled forward. A robotic guard stationed at the door scanned each inmate with a cold, unblinking eye, ensuring no contraband entered the dining room.

As they reached the serving line, Norman grabbed two trays and passed one to Haoyu. “Are you going to work in the family business again when you get out?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Haoyu scooped a mound of grey mashed potatoes onto his plate, his expression unreadable. “I have little choice. It seems my sister’s decision to forgive me comes with a price.” He shrugged, suggesting he was resigned to his fate.

“She wants you back in the fold?” Norman asked.

“It seems that way.”

Norman bypassed the unappetizing potatoes, instead choosing a cutlet of indeterminate origin and smothering it in gravy. “Do you think she’ll let you retire? Maybe find a cabin with a view of the mountains on Delve’s Landing?”

Haoyu’s eyes brightened. “A comfy chair and a mountain view would be perfect, but Pam will never let me escape when using me is still possible.” He sighed.

With their trays laden, they moved to the dining area. The room was stark and institutional, rows of tables and chairs arranged in precise order. Above them, human guards, their presence more symbolic than practical in the face of the ever-vigilant panopticon AIs, patrolled the mezzanine level.

As they settled at a table, Norman couldn’t help but feel the weight of the prison’s oppressive atmosphere. The AIs watched every movement, every interaction. He was fully aware that escaping this place was impossible. No one had ever succeeded, and he doubted anyone would.

The room buzzed with clattering cutlery and murmuring conversations, laced with a constant undercurrent of tension. For now, this was their world.

Chapter 17

Hakkun — 723 years ago

Hakkun’s hands trembled as he stared at the screen, his eyes locked on the apocalyptic scene unfolding on Earth. The dust plume, a monstrous cloud of destruction, obscured the city he’d once called home. The space elevator’s cable, a lifeline to the stars, had become an instrument of devastation. A falling cable could destroy everything for kilometres.

“Oh, shit,” Julie said beside him.

A shocked silence fell over the bridge. The space elevator was gone. The loss was unimaginable—the city in ruins, countless lives extinguished in an instant.

Amid the catastrophic loss, Hakkun’s thoughts homed in on one person: Sonja. His heart ached with the fear she might be among those lost. The tears that welled in his eyes blurred the chaotic scene on his display. He fought to swallow the lump in his throat, clinging to a fragile thread of hope.

The captain’s voice, normally authoritative and confident, now cracked with emotion as he pierced the silence. “Seal the ship and prepare for departure.”

“Ship sealed,” one of the bridge crew said.

“Helm, pull us away from the station.” Despite his naturally confident jawline, the captain appeared shaken by what had happened.

As the crew did as they were told, the captain’s order to pull away from the station hit Hakkun like a physical blow. The ship groaned as if mourning the tragedy below, the thrusters firing to set it adrift from the only home most of its passengers had ever known.

“Navigation, plot us a course for a high orbit around Earth.”

“Aye aye.” Hakkun let his fingers fly across his display, a momentary distraction. As soon as he was done, more thoughts and fears about Sonya flooded his mind.

As the captain rose to prepare for a ship-wide broadcast, Julie leaned into him. Her voice, low and urgent, pulled Hakkun back to the present. “I’ve pulled the passenger list of the car that was coming up the elevator,” she said, her expression solemn.

Hakkun’s heart pounded in his chest, fear and hope warring within him. He braced himself for the worst.

“Your wife wasn’t on it.”

Relief pulsed through him, a wave of gratitude so intense it left him breathless. He hadn’t realized how much tension he was holding until he released it.

“Quick, call her,” Julie urged.

Hakkun nodded and used their bridge access to use the comms system. Sonja didn’t answer. He tried again and again, despite knowing the odds she would respond were minuscule.

The captain strode to the centre of the bridge, the expanding dust cloud filling the view behind him. He lifted his chin and made eye contact with everyone. “We’ll orbit Earth until—”

One of the bridge officers cut him off. “The spaceport,” she said, pointing to the orbital station they’d just left.

For a second time, silence fell over the group as they watched the station cant to an impossible angle. The thrusters fired in a futile attempt to correct its trajectory, but the pull of gravity didn’t relent. The lower half of the wheeled structure started to glow red as it sank lower into Earth’s atmosphere. In minutes the glow consumed the whole station. Then it broke apart, each piece cascading down to the city below. They’d lost the spaceport.

A chill raced up Hakkun’s spine. The spaceport had been more than a structure; it had been a community, a home to families. Now it was gone, adding to the unfolding tragedy.

Julia broke the silence. “Who would do this?”

The captain looked their way, his face ashen. “We need to look for escape pods.”

Chapter 18

Darla — Seventeen years ago

In the twenty-four hours since she’d taken—no, stolen—the case, Darla hadn’t slept one bit. The weird limbo she was stuck in chafed. She had committed a crime but had to pretend everything was normal, and they were still a day out from Delve’s Landing and their planned escape.

With this mixture of anticipation and anxiety weighing heavy on her, she watched as the 3D printer slowly completed its project. She wanted to go to the escape pod and check on the case, make sure it was still there, yet she didn’t dare. What if they were already watching her? Just waiting for her to give away her hiding spot? Her heart raced as she imagined them closing in. One false move and she could end up spending a lifetime in jail.

Instead she focused on the preparations for her and Vi’s anniversary. Vi was still on her shift in the engine room, leaving Darla with an opportunity to prepare a surprise for her—and Vi adored a surprise.

“She’ll love this.” Darla smiled as the object emerged from the printer. She’d started the print job more than an hour ago, but due to its complexity, it was only now nearing completion. She’d lost most of her free time to watching the printer print, but Vi was worth the effort.

Darla leaned against the bulkhead as the printer nozzles add a series of colours, leaving a metallic blue surface. She’d hunted through the Protectorate archives to find the pattern. With each addition, a steam engine from Old Earth slowly materialized before her. Vi avidly collected trains, especially anything related to the Old Earth trains. She already had an assortment of engines but not this one. (Darla had checked by forcing one of the steward AIs to cross-reference images from Vi’s shelf with the archives.)

“I don’t get the romantic appeal of these ancient trains. Someone had to shovel coal, and they ran on metal wheels. It must have been an unpleasant ride.” The printer room was empty, meaning Darla was free to talk to herself without drawing any judgement.

The train emerging from the printer was a LNER Class A4 4468 Mallard, the fastest steam engine on Old Earth in 1938. As a distraction, Darla looked up the record.

She snorted. “Just a smidge over two hundred kilometres per hour? That doesn’t seem so fast.” She looked up the cruising speed of the train on New Haven. That ordinary train cruised at double the speed of a Mallard. A ping pulled her attention. The base model was fully rendered.

“On to the details,” she muttered as she started the file to give the engine realistic features, including its red wheels and steel rims. A few minutes later, another ping announced the train was complete. When she pulled it from the printer, warmth radiated into her hand from the resin model.

“She’ll definitely love this.” Darla grinned at the palm-size steam engine. She put it in her pocket as she headed to the kitchen to pick up the snazzy meals she’d ordered.

“Wow,” Vi said as she walked into their cabin. Even in her overalls and ugly work boots, stained with lubricant and covered in metal shavings, she looked hot.

“I thought we should celebrate. It is our anniversary, after all.” Darla forced an uncharacteristically cheerful tone. She had set out the food on their small table, and the aroma of exotic spices and freshly made garlic naan wafted through the cabin. She’d even added some fake candles and a holographic bouquet of red roses; this was high-end romance in Darla’s eyes.

Vi stayed rooted in front of the door. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Come hither, my love.” Darla gestured to the table.

“Um…” Vi’s words trailed off as she ran her hands down the sides of her pants.

Darla’s face fell, and she asked in an anxious whisper, “Are they on to us?”

“Huh?” Vi cocked her head.

“About the case.” Darla’s thoughts returned to the hiding place she’d chosen. Was an escape pod safe enough? “You know the one we…” Darla paused, searching for the right words. “Stole.”

Vi shook her head. “No, not about that. However, there’s something I need to tell you.”

A new knot formed in Darla’s gut. “What?”

“Um…there’s no easy way to say this…” Vi bit her lip and closed her eyes.

“Spill it.” Darla steadied herself.

Vi opened her eyes and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

The bottom dropped out of Darla’s world. “What? How?” She sat at the table, and the model train engine in her pocket dug into her skin. The pungent odour of spices now turned her gut.

Vi shrugged. “The usual way.” She stared at her hands.

Darla snorted as she glared daggers at Vi. “Then it’s not mine. Whose is it?”

An uncomfortable silence descended between them like a blanket of thick fog. As it dragged on, Vi stayed quiet.

After a minute Darla erupted. “Well? Whose is it?”

Vi remained still, avoiding Darla’s gaze. Her shoulders rose with a deep breath. “Norman’s.”

“What!” In two long strides, Darla marched forward and loomed over Vi. “He’s an arrogant putz—”

“I can explain,” Vi offered.

“No.” Darla shook her head. “No, you can’t.” She shoved past Vi and stormed out of their cabin.

Darla hadn’t realized where she was going until she was standing in front of the escape pod’s door.

“How could she do this to me?”

After realizing she’d spoken aloud, she looked both ways down the corridor of escape pods. She let out a long exhale after confirming she was alone.

“I can’t just stand here.” This area of the ship wasn’t open to the public unless there was an emergency. The ship’s AIs always focused on where the guests were, but she wouldn’t remain unnoticed forever.

With a sigh, she opened the pod’s door and stepped inside. After double checking the door was locked, she pulled out the case and sank into one of the bucket seats. Running her fingers over the smooth surface, she tied to soothe her nerves.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered, knowing it was lie, and opened the case.

The notebook with Hank the Hippo sat on top. His simply rendered image made her smile.

“Why can’t we all live a simple life like you?” she said as she ran a finger over Hank’s round face, then across the child’s name.

A lump formed in her throat, and tears threatened to form. Vi had betrayed her. Darla had been a such a fool to believe their relationship was solid.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered as she forced herself to study the case’s interior.

After taking care to keep Hank’s picture facing upward, she set the notebook on the seat beside her and took out the fabric pouch beneath it. The contents clanged. A label said, “For Long Enterprises.”

“Let’s see what I’ve gotten myself into.”

She opened the pouch. Three datapads slid out, each with ‘Top Secret: Property of the Protectorate’ stamped on them.

A low whistle escaped her lips. Why would Long Enterprises be transporting top secret government data? And how could they possibly sell this without giving themselves away? These weren’t some Old Earth artifacts they could anonymously put on sale at one of the Seven Soaring Swans auction houses. She bit her lip.

“I should put these back right now.”

She packed the items into the case. Going through with this plan was riskier than she’d expected and no longer worth it. Her dream of a happy life with Vi now seemed like a fantasy—one that had already evaporated into nothing. Darla vowed to get off at the next port and find a position on a cargo ship, leaving Vi, Norman, and the overly fancy world of the Garden Princess behind.

A chime in her pocket pulled her attention. All the officers had been called to the bridge. She had no choice. She had to go.

“I’ll put the case back later,” she said, meaning every world. She stashed the model train inside as well and hid the case under the seat before setting off to the bridge.

“Do you know why they’re bringing everyone off shift?” Norman asked as he stepped into the elevator with Darla.

Darla’s pulse quickened as she glanced at his smug face and perfectly coiffed hair. She pictured wrapping her fingers around his neck and squeezing until every ounce of life left his body. What did Vi see in him? With a snort, she crossed her arms over her chest.

“As first officer, I should have been kept in the loop.” Norman remained oblivious to Darla’s mounting rage, which only served to further fuel the fire inside her.

Did the moron even know Vi carried his child? Darla looked him up and down. Sure, he had the kind of physique many women swooned over; passengers were always throwing themselves at him. His handsome face and perfect uniform were part of that package. But underneath it he was a putz.

“You seem less talkative than usual.” Norman looked at her. “Did this meeting mess up your romantic evening with Vi?”

Darla focused on his jaw and clenched her fist, ready to throw a punch, but the elevator doors slid open, exposing a crowded bridge.

Everyone was there, both the current and off-shift bridge crew. Something big was going down. Whispered theories and speculation drifted through the air. Darla relaxed her hand and swallowed as she stepped into the crowd, leaving Norman behind.

A few moments later, Captain Kassinger strode to the middle of the bridge. She put her hands on her hips, and the bridge crew quieted. Everyone focused on the captain.

“We have a thief on board.”

Darla’s pulse hammered in her temple. They were on to her. She started inching her way back toward the elevator.

Captain Kassinger continued, “The Protectorate Intelligence Corps has informed me that one of our passengers is carrying stolen, top-secret documents.”

Darla swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She could still return the case to the passenger’s cabin. She could quietly slip away and do it now.

“Agents have informed me it’s a blue case, similar in size and shape to an old-fashioned briefcase. I’ve already stationed security personnel on each deck to discreetly keep an eye out for such a thing. I have also diverted much of our AI resources to analyzing all real-time feeds in case the perpetrator moved it.”

Captain Kassinger looked each of her bridge crew in the eyes.

“The Garden Princess has a reputation to uphold. We are not, nor will we ever be, a haven for criminals. To that end, I have canceled our stop at Delve’s Landing. Instead we’re going straight to the Foxtrot System. But before we dock at Seven Soaring Swans, teams of agents will board to append the criminal.

“Until we board, I’m tasking you all with maintaining normalcy. Project calmness as you interact with our passengers. None of them are to know what’s really going on. I will make an announcement about missing our stop at Delve’s Landing. Be prepared to deflect questions.”

Darla froze. She wasn’t convinced she would be able to act calm. Why in the hell had she agreed to Vi’s harebrained scheme? And when could she find a moment to confront Norman and punch him in the jaw?

Chapter 19

Darla — Present day

Hating this shitty spaceport above an even shittier world more and more, I continued toward the ferry terminal. My sprint subsided to a walk after only a few paces. My knees now ached as I tried to slow my breathing. I was way too old for this kind of excitement. Without Theo65’s avatar to act as lookout (because apparently they had more pressing business elsewhere—i.e., getting me off this orbiting hellhole), I moved to the edges of the concourse, trying to use the now-abandoned food kiosks as cover.

Above, the station lights flickered and went out. For a moment darkness blanketed the space. Then the emergency lights came on, leaving pools of darkness I could hide in. I snuck through the shadows and darted between alleys, dodging cameras that may or may not have been working and staying out of sight to avoid detection by the station’s security forces…or anyone else.

My goggles performed excellently (as they always did; I’d really splurged when I got them), warning me whenever someone was about to come into view. They also allowed me to see in the shadows while overlaying a route to the ferry station on my surroundings.

I overlaid a small screen to display the station’s newsfeed. Nothing I saw there made much sense, just messages from panicked authorities that often contradicted each other. I crouched behind a hot dog stand and expanded the display. There were various reports of a mob in different locations. Were there multiple mobs? I could hear people running and shouting on the concourse. I tensed, balled myself up farther, and continued reading the feed.

No evidence suggested any station madness was directed at me or Red, yet my uncertainty persisted. I couldn’t trust the girl, but she was my only option to get to the Habitat and that damn map to Old Earth. Finding that map was the biggest open loop in my life. I’d been looking for it for years—no, decades. But that wasn’t the only thing weighing me down.

A naive girl like Red on her own could get in a whole lot of trouble. I shook my head. Why in the hell did I give a shit about her? To my chagrin I had to confess I did.

As soon as the coast was clear, I continued to the ferry terminal, where I spotted her ridiculously red hair immediately. Why had the girl done that to herself? She stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Red,” I said as I approached.

She flinched and wobbled back, averting her gaze to the ground. “I—I shouldn’t have gone through your bag,” she muttered with a quivering voice. Up close, I saw her hair was matted in clumps yet standing straight up. She hadn’t even taken a moment to brush it. I almost snorted (of course, I had put no effort into coiffing my hair, either—that’s why I kept it so short).

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I sighed. I probably would have searched her bag if given the chance. “Promise never to do that again.”

She nodded as a flock of security drones, as black and subtle as ravens, flew into the waiting room. They spread out over the crowd in a grid pattern, blue beams crisscrossing in front of their plastic-and-metal bodies.

“I think they’re on the hunt for someone.” I looked for the best exit away from the drones.

“The ferry is delayed.” Red pointed to the big screen posted at the end of the waiting room. It confirmed what she’d said, but I already knew.

“A friend has arranged another ride,” I said as the details of where we needed to go popped up in my goggles. It appeared to be a low-end cargo ship. All I could hope for was that it wasn’t carrying a stinky load of live crickets or, worse, contraband shit. (I mean literal shit; there was a big market for human waste on many of the farming colonies.)

“I don’t want to be late.” Red met my gaze. “I made a promise.”

Yet again I had to stop myself from snorting. The prison at Vander’s Edge couldn’t simply release an inmate. There were no communities, space elevators, or even bare necessities on the planet. An oxygen atmosphere at a reasonable temperature was all they had. They wouldn’t just kick Red’s dad out the door.

“We’ll do what we can.” How the hell had I ended up in the role of shepherd for this untrustworthy girl? I’d gone from abandoning her and her quest to making things happen. Apparently I was a sucker for this kind of thing. “Let’s go before we get locked down in here.”

Red nodded and picked up her sack. “What kind of ship is it?”

I ignored her question as I programmed my goggles to give us the fastest route there while avoiding the station security. “This way.” I didn’t wait for her answer before I darted through the waiting area doors.

“Wait.” Red broke into a run to catch up with me.

The concourse outside the waiting room was as deserted as before, but now red banners of text scrolled by at regular intervals over our heads. Each one said the same thing: shelter in place. I clenched my jaw and followed the path my goggles set out for us.

As we came around a corner, I heard voices. With a wave of my hand, I gestured Red to take cover beside an electronics repair cart. I crouched next to her and set my goggles to record audio.

“Let’s go to the admin buildings,” a person said as the group passed by.

“Why the fuck would we bug all the pencil pushers?” another eloquently asked.

“The port director will transfer us buckets of credits to get their pencil pushers back,” the first one said.

Amateurs trying to cash in on the chaos. This dimwitted group was probably trying to take advantage of the situation; they weren’t the ones port security was hunting down. Nevertheless, I sent the audio file of the soon-to-be hostage-takers to security.

“Let’s go.” My knees creaked as I stood. I wasn’t getting up as fast as I used to, but I put that out of my mind.

“Is it safe?” Red asked, her eyes wide as she stared down the concourse where the thugs had gone.

“Safe is a relative term right now,” I replied dryly. “But our ride won’t wait forever.”

We followed the concourse the other way, taking cover only once more when security drones passed overhead. Within ten minutes we’d reached docking bay twenty-one, where Theo65 said the Shimmer waited for us.

Chapter 20

Darla — Present day

The windows on the docking bay gave me a clear view of the ship’s dull grey hull. At a single glance, it was obvious whoever owned it skimped on maintenance. There were at least five spots where the plating was worn right through; someone could poke a finger through what little was left. I would never let the hull plating on my ship wear to that level. At most, the Shimmer had a year before it failed, and that failure would likely vent the ship’s atmosphere. Luckily I wasn’t going to be on board for long.

Judging every rivet as I passed, I strode onto the ship only to nearly plow into a short, heavyset man. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide as he tried to take in the situation—the situation being my sudden presence.

“Is this the Shimmer?” I asked as he tried to regain his footing. Yeah, I already knew what ship this was. I was trying to start a reasonable conversation with this quivering mess of a man.

He frowned at me, shifting his gaze to Red and back to me. “You Darla?”

A waft of air brought a thick reek of decay. I nearly gagged, but I did my best to keep my expression neutral. Who let their ship get like this? “That’s me.”

“Good. We’re about to leave.” He closed both airlock doors and sealed the ship. “We finished refuelling, but they wouldn’t let us leave until we had clearance from port security, which was supposed to come through, like, an hour ago. Not sure what happened there…” He trailed off before gesturing at the space station with one hand, keeping a wary eye on us both.

“They said it was to do with a terrorist event,” Red said. Her cheeks were tinged with green. She must have been struggling with the stench, too.

He froze, his eyes fixated on me as if I were responsible for the station troubles—and might bring more with me.

I snorted. Yeah, trouble often followed me, but Theo65 had already paid this putz for our passage. “I can assure you we have nothing to do with whatever is happening on the port. All we need is a ride.”

“If you’re lying to me, you two are going out an airlock.”

I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. There was no way he could overpower me.

“Right, fine then. I’m Boris, captain of the ship.” He made an expansive gesture at the rusty cargo bay we stood in. Clearly he was a mover of contraband. No one with a legitimate load to move would risk it in here. There was even an algae infestation along the far bulkhead (explaining the awful smell). I’d need to disinfect everything I had with me as soon as we disembarked.

“Well, Boris, I vote we get the hell away from here.”

“Right.” He didn’t meet my gaze. Instead he looked to a door on the other side of the bay. “We should go to the bridge.”

Without forcing further conversation, Red and I followed Boris to the bridge. Annoyingly, gravity was uneven, suggesting the ship’s gravity plating was overdue for maintenance. That, combined with the state of the hull and the stench, added to my lack of confidence in this vessel. I revised my estimate of its catastrophic failure to six months. To make matters worse, it seemed to lack a crew. I changed my estimate to three months.

“We’re ready to go,” a petite, dark-haired woman on the bridge said as we walked in. She glanced at us, then turned to Boris. “Is that them?”

“Emiko, Darla,” Boris said, gesturing between us. He pointed at Red. “And you are?”

“Red.”

“Right, that sounds legit.” Boris slumped down at the helm and started messing with the controls. I frowned. Did the man have legit qualifications for bridge work?

The ship shuddered violently, lurching with a force that seemed to wrench at the very guts of the vessel. The planet’s surface dominated the view through the front windows. I changed my estimate of the ship’s demise to just minutes.

“Boris,” Emiko hissed. “The docking clamps.”

I bit back a curse. Every muscle in my body tensed as I fought the overwhelming sense of impending doom. I wasn’t wrong about the captain being an incompetent moron.

“Come on, come on!” he muttered under his breath. From my vantage point, he seemed to be randomly pressing things.

Alarm bells blared, their shrill tones slicing through the chaos. The sound was deafening, adding to the confusion that filled the bridge. Bloody hell! Releasing docking clamps was a cakewalk; I could do it in my sleep.

Then he got it. The ship drifted free of the spaceport. Of course by free, I meant the idiot had forgotten to engage the engines, and we were pointed right at the bloody world I’d just left. I felt the pull of the planet, a relentless force dragging us downward. The view outside was a blur of drab hues, the ground approaching faster than I would like. I probably should have strapped myself in, but if the ship went nose first into the ground, a seat belt wouldn’t save me.

“Fucking hell!” Boris stabbed at the console in front of him as the planet below grew larger. Another problematic groan sounded, followed by a metallic thunk. The engines’ thudding deepened, transforming into a menacing rumble that felt like a death knell.

“Damn it!” Emiko grabbed a bag of tools and sprinted off the bridge. At least she seemed useful.

I grabbed on to one of the ‘oh shit’ bars peppered around the space. Eyes wide, Red did the same.

With both hands, Boris pulled back on the control column. The ship responded sluggishly and plunged deeper into the atmosphere. The view outside grew fiery.

“How much of a dip into the atmosphere can this ship handle?” I asked as I moved toward him, the state of the hull plating fresh in my mind.

“Hell if I know.” Sweat beaded down his face.

“I’m a trained helmsman. How about you let me fly?” I stopped right next to him.

More alarms on the display lit up as I debated tossing him out of the seat.

“Yeah, you can fly.” He jumped out of the chair, landing on his hands and knees on the opposite side of me.

As he scrambled to his feet, I sank into the seat and took over. Ignoring the damp feel of the controls, I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. I pulled back hard, trying to coax the sluggish Shimmer out of its dive.

Calling the ship sluggish was a colossal understatement. I angled the controls starboard, and still the ship didn’t respond.

“Hang on!” I shouted, pushing the control column to the limit and forcing the ship into an even steeper dive. The engines roared in response, edging us closer to danger.

Boris’s panicked voice echoed through the bridge as a shower of sparks rained down. “You’re going to kill us all!” Even though he was behind me, his seething fear came through loud and clear. Yet he made no move to retake control.

The hull began to glow, and sparks cascaded off it and hit the windows like deadly fireworks.

Clenching my jaw, I jerked the control column back as far as it could go. This time the ship responded. For a moment I felt exceptionally heavy, then the gravity plating caught up and returned the bridge to one g-force.

As the ship climbed out of the atmosphere, the hull cooled, and many of the alarms turned off. I reached forward and silenced the rest. With a snort, I put the ship’s demise back to least a day or two.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” I muttered to myself as I activated the navigation system. I plotted our course through the next gate and engaged the autopilot before I realized I was alone on the bridge—just as I liked it.

With a sigh, I moved to the captain’s chair. It was a low-end model just like everything else on this ship. But it didn’t matter; we were away from the lockdown on the spaceport, and I hadn’t been forced to talk to any authorities.

After setting a proximity alert, I projected Hank the Hippo beside me. I couldn’t help but smile as the hippo’s form materialized.

“She’s going to get us to the Habitat,” I said, meeting the hippo’s gaze.

After years of searching, I finally had a chance at the Holy Grail of Old Earth artifacts—a map to the planet. A map that had been suppressed—hidden from us by the morons in charge. Our ancestors had taken centuries to reach here; we owed it to them to know where they came from.

Within a few minutes, lack of sleep caught up with me, and I dozed off.

Chapter 21

Hakkun — 723 years ago

A heaviness settled deep in Hakkun’s limbs as he finished his shift. He and Julia shared an elevator car back to the accommodations deck, but they didn’t make eye contact or even say a word. Julia stood beside him with her shoulders slumped, emanating a palpable sense of fatigue.

The weight of unsaid words hung heavy in the air, creating an atmosphere of unease and tension. But what could they possibly say about the tragedy they’d witnessed? The silence drew out between them until the car door opened.

“I heard the captain turned down your request to return to Earth,” Julia said.

Hakkun nodded.

She cocked her head slightly. “What did you hope to find there?”

“My wife.” He exhaled loudly. “Minjun and I can’t leave without her.”

“It’s too late.” She pursed her lips as if she regretted what she’d said.

“Yeah, it’s too late.”

“Well, have a good night,” Julia said, her tone flat, before she strode in the opposite direction down the corridor.

“You too,” Hakkun replied in a low tone. He wasn’t sure she’d heard him. He sighed. Platitudes seemed pointless now.

About an hour ago, a terrorist group had claimed responsibility for the explosion—meaning all the deaths had been deliberate. Without the spaceport to dock at, the generation ship remained in a geostationary orbit around Earth. They’d searched for hours for escape pods from the spaceport and found exactly none. No one had made it out.

Hakkun swallowed a lump in his throat. Despite the shocking number of casualties, his thoughts remained fixated on his wife.

The only thing he knew for sure was Sonja hadn’t been on the elevator or the station when the explosion happened. Just before he’d finished his shift, he’d found the passenger list. Sonja remained somewhere on the ground among the wreckage of the fallen elevator cable, the area still buried beneath a dust cloud so thick, it spread a hundred kilometres in all directions. How could she have survived that?

Outside the door to his accommodation block, Hakkun stopped and leaned against the wall. With Julia gone, there was no one in sight. Silence blanketed the corridor, like a weight pulling him down. He drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Then, from beyond the door, the sound of children playing reached him, their glee untampered by recent tragedies.

Tilting his head, he rested the back of his skull against the wall. Sonja had been on the surface when the elevator cable fell. Odds weren’t good, yet a chance remained that she’d survived. It was a tiny chance, but at least that allowed him a sliver of hope, and hope was what he needed to bring through that door.

He pulled himself up tall and entered his new home.

“Dad!” Minjun shrieked as Hakkun stepped through the door. At a full sprint, the boy threw himself at his dad, nearly knocking him over.

Hakkun wrapped his arms around his boy. His small, solid form felt so right in his arms.

“When’s Mom going to get here?”

Hakkun sighed and pulled away just far enough to kneel to Minjun’s level. “She’s been delayed.”

“I miss her.” Minjun bit his lip. “Can you tell her to hurry up?”

Hakkun smiled. “I’ll pass that message along. But I’d like you to give me a tour of this place first.”

Minjun grinned. “This is the best place ever!” He took Hakkun’s hand and tugged him toward the large planter that filled the centre of the common space.

Three saplings rose from a swath of shrubs. At the edges, vines extended past the planter’s boundaries, as if trying to claim more space.

“This is our jungle,” Minjun said. “Fatima says playing in the planter is off-limits for now, but in the future, the trees will be for climbing.”

Hakkun pictured Minjun up one of those trees. He took a deep breath, inhaling the earth-scented air. This place could be their home; Minjun needed to believe that. “What’s next?”

“Over here.” Minjun pulled him to the large table set off to one side.

It was big enough for a dozen people to sit and share a meal. Hakkun liked the three of them living as a small nuclear family, but now they’d become part of a larger group, with people he hadn’t even met.

“This is the biggest fort ever.” Minjun grinned. “Fatima and I have already been pirates here. Tomorrow we’re going to fight dinosaurs.”

Two adults washing dishes in a communal kitchen glanced over. They both smiled.

Minjun grabbed Hakkun’s hand and led him into their private quarters. “Come see this.”

As the door slid shut behind them, Hakkun realized it was dark inside. The lights should have been automatic, but they hadn’t come on. Was there a problem? Before he could investigate, Minjun tugged him to the side.

The boy (perhaps with some help) had rearranged the furniture and draped several blankets over the top.

Minjun pulled his dad down. “This is how we get in.”

Hakkun got on his hands and knees as Minjun folded a corner of the blanket aside, letting pinpricks of light show the way. Hakkun followed him into the cozy fort.

“This is where I draw.” Minjun turned on a portable lantern. His pencil crayons and Hank the Hippo notebook were fanned out on the floor.

Hakkun rested on his side, propped up on an elbow, as he studied the drawing in the open notebook. It was a two-page spread with a background of stars and planets. One side featured a hippo with enormous eyes and a wide smile. Three people stood in the middle, with a likeness of Hakkun embracing Sonja. Between them stood a likeness of Minjun. All three smiled as if they were embarking on a grand adventure.

Hakkun sighed and ran a finger over Sonja’s face, tracing the thick yellow lines of her hair. “I’m sure she’s doing her best to find a way to join us.”

Minjun nodded as he tucked his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “What if she can’t reach us?”

Hakkun shifted until he sat beside Minjun, then wrapped an arm around the boy. “Then we keep her in our thoughts and drawings forever.”

Minjun nodded as a tear slid down his face.

“But she will never give up trying to join us.” Hakkun swallowed. “She loves us very much.”

The morning shift progressed at a snail’s pace. Everyone focused on scanning the spaceport wreckage one final time, going through everything with their sensors fragment by fragment. Hakkun’s gaze kept drifting to the planet below and the dust cloud that had swallowed his wife.

“I hate this shit,” Julia muttered from her station beside him.

“Huh?” Hakkun turned to her.

“We’re not going to find anything.” She waved a hand at her screen. “This is all just space junk.”

Hakkun glanced at where the captain spoke with one of the junior bridge officers before returning his gaze to his screen. “You’re right. It seems pointless.” He zoomed in on a large piece of debris, but it was just a lifeless hunk of metal.

“Navigator!” the captain called.

“Oh, shit,” Julia said under her breath.

Hakkun’s palms grew clammy. He stood and turned to the captain. “Yes, sir?”

“Something’s wrong with your kid…”

Hakkun was in the lift before the captain finished his sentence.

Hakkun arrived at the infirmary only minutes later. His heart pounded against his ribs, sending waves of anxiety coursing through his body. He swallowed as he approached the reception desk.

Wearing a curious expression, the woman behind it looked up. She noticed his distress and furrowed her brows. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for Minjun,” he said, his mouth so dry he could hardly speak. “I’m his father.”

“Right.” She glanced at a screen that was out of view. “Lee, right? Of accommodation pod A-89?”

“Yes. Now, where’s my boy?” Hakkun swallowed. The captain hadn’t been able to elaborate—all he knew was something had happened.

With a compassionate smile, she gestured for Hakkun to take a seat in the nearby waiting area. “Please have a seat, Lieutenant Lee,” she said softly. “I’ll find out what’s going on with your son and inform you as soon as I have any information.”

Hakkun nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he took a seat. He watched as the receptionist headed deeper into the medical centre, leaving him alone.

He tried to steady his breathing, but the anticipation gnawed at him, his body trembling involuntarily. The seconds felt like hours as he anxiously waited for news about his beloved son.

Thoughts raced through his mind about what could have happened to Minjun. Had he been injured? Was he sick? The thought of his son in pain or distress was unbearable.

Every sound, every movement in the infirmary heightened his anticipation, making his heart race faster. He longed for the woman at the reception desk to return with news, to ease the weight of uncertainty that cloaked him.

“There you are,” Iris said as she emerged from one of the rooms.

Hakkun sprang out of his seat and raced to her. “Where’s Minjun?”

“He’s in here.” She gestured back to the room. “I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were here.”

Hakkun glanced at the open door. “What happened?”

“He’s upset, but about what, he wouldn’t say. He threw up. I tried to call you, but they wouldn’t put me through to the bridge. I didn’t know what else to do other than bring him here.”

Hakkun nodded. “Thank you.” Iris was basically a stranger, yet she’d helped him and Minjun more than he could ever have hoped.

She gave him a brief smile. “The doctor says Minjun’s fine, just a panic attack. He can go home.” Iris briefly put her hand on his shoulder, then left.

Hakkun nodded again. Going home was impossible; the ship without Sonja would never be home. But Minjun needed him. He swallowed again before entering the room.

Minjun looked so small and vulnerable sitting on the examination table. He hugged his knees, tears streaming down his face. The weight of his emotions seemed to physically press him down.

“Hey, spud,” Hakkun said as he sat beside Minjun. He put an arm around his boy. He felt so fragile.

“Da…” Minjun’s word trailed off, and he sobbed, leaning into his dad.

“What’s got you so upset?”

“I don’t like it here.”

“I know. I wish we could go home.” He didn’t want to tell his son how he’d failed to get them passage back to Earth. With the space elevator gone, shuttles were the only option. But the generation ship was short of people, and they weren’t willing to let anyone go, especially a navigator.

Minjun sniffed. Breaking away, he met Hakkun’s gaze. “I left something behind.”

“What?”

“My other yellow pencil crayon. I’m afraid I’ll run out of yellow.”

“Oh.” Hakkun swallowed and frowned. “Why are you afraid of that?”

Minjun bit his lip and gazed at his hands. He stayed quiet momentarily, then sniffed.

“It’s okay.” Hakkun put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I know yellow is important.”

Minjun nodded. “I need lots of yellow because I want to draw Mom every day. I don’t want to forget her.”

A tear slid down Hakkun’s cheek. “I want you to keep drawing her too. I’ll request a box of yellow crayons.”

“If I keep drawing us as a family, maybe she’ll know and come find us.”

Hakkun hugged Minjun tighter. “I’m sure she knows.”

That morning the authorities reported Sonya Lee as dead—even though they hadn’t found her body.

Chapter 22

Red — Present day

Red remained on the bridge until it was clear Darla had fallen asleep in the captain’s chair. On tiptoe, she slipped away, leaving her ogre-like companion behind.

“What’s she doing in there?” Boris said as soon as Red closed the bridge door behind her.

“Napping,” Red said.

“Napping?” Boris’s cheeks flushed. “How dare she! I should march in there and…” His words trailed off to nothing.

Red looked from Boris to the closed door, then back. “If we leave her be, she’ll likely stay on the bridge.” With all her nerve, Red walked by Boris and returned to the cargo bay.

Once the rotten algae stench hit her, she regretted leaving the bridge. But she really didn’t want to be around Darla—or Boris, for that matter.

“Have you had lunch?” the other crew member asked, coming up behind Red.

All she could remember was the woman’s name began with E. “Um, Emily?”

“Emiko.” She walked past, then turned back and said, “Come on. It doesn’t smell nearly as bad in the common room.”

Emiko was right. Once the doors to the cargo bay were closed, the stench was about half as bad. “Why does the ship smell like this?”

Emiko continued to the kitchen. “Boris’s family owns it, and they don’t give a shit about maintenance. Here.” She tossed an emergency ration pack to Red.

“Do they care much about crew comfort?” She looked at the pack: potatoes and halm. “What the hell is halm?”

“I think they view us as expendable. And I don’t think too hard on what the rations are.” Emiko gestured to the table. “Right now we don’t have a working way to heat anything, so cold food it is.”

With a frown, Red went to the table and opened the package. Emiko sat across from her. “Where are you and Darla headed?”

“Seven Soaring Swans. We’re meeting a family friend.” Red took one whiff of the halm and decided she’d rather go hungry.

“You from Formax?”

Red cocked her head. “Formax?”

“That’s the planet you came from.” Emiko seemed to study her.

“Oh. No, we were just passing through.” Red bit her lip. Lying wasn’t her strength. “We came from Jupiter Station.”

Emiko nodded in a way that left Red certain she’d caught the lie.

After not eating her lunch, Red flopped onto an uncomfortable couch while Emiko vanished somewhere, presumably to fix something. Red pulled out her datapad and messaged Haoyu to let him know they were on their way. Then she let her head rest against the upholstery and closed her eyes.

“I want the two of you off my ship at Delve’s Landing.”

Red opened her eyes to see Boris looming over her.

“We need to go to Seven Soaring Swans,” she said.

“I don’t care.” He pointed at the bridge. “This is my ship, and your friend isn’t respecting that. I want you gone.”

Sitting up, Red rubbed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep. “Okay.”

“I want you to tell your friend.”

Boris was sweating profusely, as if talking to Darla was a terrifying thing. She cocked her head, trying to decide what she thought of her companion. “Darla is a bit rough around the edges.”

“I want her off my ship.” Boris stalked away.

Red watched him go as she tried to work through what she thought of Darla. The woman was paranoid and unnecessarily harsh, but she had come for Red and gotten her off the space station. And Darla hadn’t needed to come back for her.

Chapter 23

Darla — Seventeen years ago

After Captain Kassinger’s meeting on the Garden Princess bridge, Darla headed straight to her cabin. Thankfully, Vi wasn’t there.

After a couple of deep breaths, she poured herself a generous glass of vodka. The liquid shimmered in the low light, a transient solace for a heart in turmoil. As she brought the glass to her lips, a whirlwind of broken dreams and unmet promises raced through her mind. Everything was unraveling; all their plans for a shared future were dissipating into nothing like mist in the morning sun.

But what cut deeper than the shattered dreams was the raw, aching wound of betrayal. The fact that Vi had been unfaithful hollowed Darla out the most. All her treasured memories were now suspect. The late-night talks, the gentle touches, the promises whispered in the dark—elaborate lies, a masquerade that hid the truth of infidelity. Betrayal clung to her like a shadow, cold and unyielding, leaving her heart a barren landscape.

“What the fuck do I do now?” She knocked back the remaining vodka, welcoming the scorch of fire down her throat and the sear in her chest, an inadequate balm for the chaos within. As the sharp sting of alcohol faded, despair crashed down on her with the weight of a collapsing star.

She rested her elbows on the table, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of her turmoil, and cradled her head in her hands.

Vi, the person she had intertwined her life with, was now the source of her deepest wound. Yet ironically Vi was the least of Darla’s immediate problems. If she didn’t act fast, the cold, unyielding bars of a jail cell loomed in her future. The threat was real and imminent, demanding swift action.

A buzzer sounded, slicing through the silence like a sharp knife, jolting her from her reverie. Someone was at her door. This moment could determine her freedom or her downfall. Each heartbeat formed part of a countdown to an unknown fate, a precipice on which her future teetered.

“Well, if they’re already onto me, there’s nothing I can do about it,” she whispered.

There was only one exit to her cabin. It meant she was trapped, a realization that settled in her stomach like a stone. The walls seemed to close in on her as the air grew thick with the weight of her impending doom.

In that charged moment, a resolution crystallized within her. She vowed to keep Vi out of it. Darla would admit to everything—despite Vi’s betrayal. As angry as she was with Vi, her child deserved a mother. Above all, this thought strengthened her determination. She would protect Vi’s child from the fallout, even if it meant walking into the jaws of her own demise.

With a deep breath that did little to calm her racing heart, Darla hit the button. The door slid open with a hiss. Norman stood on the other side. She nearly punched him.

“We have to do this now!” Norman’s voice carried an urgency that mirrored the panic in his eyes. He glanced back down the hallway like a cornered fox, an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability in someone who usually oozed confidence.

“Fucking hell.” Darla shot her head out the door and scanned both sides of the hallway. No one was in sight. “Get in here!” she commanded, her tone a mix of fear and frustration, before darting back inside.

Norman scooted in and helped himself to a large serving of vodka. His normal suave demeanor had evaporated, leaving in its place a man who seemed diminished, his aura of control unraveled. He took a seat at the table, his hand visibly shaking as he put the glass down, the liquid quivering like his resolve. “There is still a narrow window for us to succeed,” he stated.

Darla scowled at him. Every fibre of her being screamed to take a swing at him. The urge was a physical itch, an emotional release she desperately needed. But in a display of self-control that surprised even her, she wilted in the chair across from him.

In this moment she hated to admit the tangled web of emotions that still bound her to Vi. Despite everything, she still loved her—a fact that felt like a betrayal to her own wounded heart. Working with Norman was a bitter pill to swallow. Yet it was a necessary evil, a path she had to take to protect Vi and her child.

“I know about you and Vi,” Darla said.

Norman moved back in his chair as if the words had pushed him and let out a low whistle. To his credit, he didn’t try to explain or deny it. Instead he took a sip of vodka. “This…stuff is shit,” he mumbled, placing the glass on the table with a clink.

Darla filled hers to the brim and slammed it down hard. The sound punctuated the tension in the room, and Norman flinched.

“What are we going to do?” she demanded, her eyes locking on his.

“Where did you stash the case?”

Darla snorted. She didn’t trust Norman that much—not anymore. His question could be a probe, a test of her willingness to reveal her cards. “First let’s talk about the plan,” she countered.

“Vi set me up with full access to the shuttle bay. If I go in there, the ship’s AI won’t even report me,” Norman said.

Darla brought her glass to her lips as her mind churned through options. The alcohol fumes teased her senses, but she didn’t take a sip. As much as she wanted to, getting drunk wouldn’t help her situation. With a deliberate motion, she placed the glass down again.

“We could put the case back where we found it.”

Norman crossed his arms over his chest. “Not an option,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers. There was a finality in his tone that suggested he had already considered and dismissed that possibility.

“Why not? Then they’ll arrest the passenger who brought the shit on board in the first place. We can carry on as usual.”

Darla was aware things would never go back to being like they were.

Norman leaned forward. “The captain didn’t tell us everything.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Word is, Protectorate security is already onto Haoyu.”

“Who the hell is Haoyu?” Darla frowned.

“The mark,” Norman clarified.

Darla’s thoughts were drawn back to the nice man she’d met before departure—the one she’d picked to be their target. “Right, him.”

“Anyway, the captain took a security detail and searched Haoyu’s cabin. They found the empty case. They know someone on board took the real one.”Darla let out a long exhale. She saw no easy exit. The three of them seemed cornered as the situation escalated around them. As much as she hated it, Norman was right; they needed to act fast. “Vi’s on shift right now.”

Norman nodded. “Yeah. We’ll have to message her where to meet.”

“You said you have access to the shuttles?”

“Yeah, we can load into one and be out of here before the Protectorate contingent arrives. We are within range of Delve’s Landing. I’ve already talked to a guy who’ll help us sell the case’s contents. Our plan could still work.”

Darla pictured the stack of top-secret storage devices—the reason for everything. “Shuttle nineteen handles the best and is less conspicuous.”

“Right. Then that’s the one we’ll take.”

“I’ll message Vi to meet us there in fifteen minutes.” Darla stood and sent the message.

“Now, where’s the case?” Norman met Darla’s gaze.

“I’ll get it and meet you there.”

Norman stood. “If you…” His words trailed off, and he fell silent for a moment. “Just be there.” Leaving his half-full glass on the table, he exited the room.

The tension dissipated, replaced by an oppressive silence after Norman left. Darla squeezed her eyes shut, a futile attempt to block out the reality of her situation. She hated this, hated the tangled web of deception and danger she was ensnared in. Why in the hell had she agreed to doing this in the first place?

When she finally opened her eyes, a sense of finality settled over her. She surveyed the cabin that had been her home for two years. Each object, each decoration, whispered stories of a life slipping away, like sand through her fingers. She knew she would never see these familiar walls again, her sanctuary in the vast emptiness of space.

“You’re a sentimental fool,” she muttered to herself.

With a snort, she grabbed her backpack. She shoved a few essential items inside, a change of clothes, and a few knickknacks. She then took out her warmest jacket, preparing for the surface of Delve’s Landing, a place where the temperature regularly dipped below freezing.

As she slung one strap of the backpack over her shoulder, she cast a last lingering look around the cabin. Without further hesitation, and with a heart heavy with unspoken goodbyes, she left the cabin. The door closed behind her, a soft hiss bidding farewell to a life she could no longer have.

Chapter 24

Darla — Seventeen years ago

Even though it took Darla less than ten minutes to get to the escape pod, it seemed like she’d been walking the corridors of the Garden Princess forever. She let out a long exhale as she put a hand on the escape pod’s door and opened it. The cold metal seemed slick under her fingers as she pushed it closed, or maybe that was just her sweaty palms. Her mouth tasted stale with fear, and her pulse pounded in her ears. Luckily she hadn’t come across anyone on her way here.

“Get a grip on yourself,” she muttered. To her ear her voice sounded off, more timid, more afraid. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly to a count of ten. Once done she felt marginally better.

Crouching, she retrieved the stolen case from its hiding spot. Although she knew it was only her imagination, the case felt warm in her hands—a hot potato she couldn’t toss to anyone.

When she opened the case, Hank the Hippo’s grinning face greeted her. The ridiculous cartoon character made her laugh, and with it some of her anxiety evaporated.

“I’ll be keeping you safe forever,” she said to the comic as she lifted it up to check beneath it. The sleek model train engine that days ago was supposed to be a gift for Vi sat on its side like the victim of a wreck. Beside it rested the bag of military secrets, the ones that could put her away for the rest of her life. Darla sighed and closed the case.

“Step two—get to shuttle nineteen.”

Norman and Vi wouldn’t leave without her since she had the case. Once they were all safe, she would figure out her next move. She vowed that whatever she did next would be on her own. She’d leave both Vi and Norman behind.

After wrapping the case in her coat, Darla left the escape pod. Her pulse resumed hammering as she climbed the stairs two levels to reach the shuttle bay.

No one was there when she entered. She let out a long exhale as she surveyed the row of shiny green shuttles, each fitted with the most luxurious options to please its elite guests. Shuttle nineteen waited at the end, a more utilitarian model and the one the crew used for mundane tasks.

At nearly a jog, she headed for the shuttle. Voices behind her alerted her to others arriving.

“Crap,” she muttered as she darted behind the nearest shuttle, a few over from number nineteen. Laying flat on the ground, she positioned herself to see under the shuttle and back to the entrance. Norman walked into view.

She opened her mouth to call to him when a group of security personnel approached from behind.

“Stop. Hands up!” the lead security officer shouted.

Darla didn’t wait to see what happened next. Staying low, she opened the shuttle door and slipped inside, hoping Vi’s security bypass included all the shuttles, not just nineteen. Cream faux leather of the highest quality covered the sofas that filled the passenger space. But it was the tinted windows that mattered most to Darla. She could see out, but no one could see in. Keeping the bundle containing the case hugged to her chest, she headed for the cockpit to get a view of the shuttle bay.

Norman stood in the centre of the open space only a few metres away from the nose of the shuttle Darla had taken refuge in. He wore his first officer’s uniform, its shade of green matching the shuttles around him. With his arms held high, he slowly turned to the bay entrance, his expression unreadable.

With her usual rigid posture, Captain Kassinger marched into view. Despite being significantly shorter than Norman, she oozed authority over him. An entourage of security officers fanned out behind her. She stopped a couple of paces away from him, directly outside Darla’s window.

“Norman Butterworth.” She shook her head, adding an air of disappointment to the already tense situation.

Norman shifted to face her. “Captain.” He held his head high and his jaw clenched.

“I did not expect my first officer to stoop this low.”

His composure shattered, and he seemed to deflate. A combination of rage and regret twisted his face. Despite wearing the uniform of the Garden Princess first officer, it was clear it no longer fit him. He remained silent, letting the captain’s words hang heavy in the air.

“We have a reliable report that you and another crew member worked together to steal from one of our passengers,” she said.

“I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m simply here checking out a report of a sensor malfunction.” Norman pulled himself up to his full height again and held a rigid posture.

“Where is your accomplice?” Her expression seemed to darken as she shifted closer to Norman. “Tell me where Darla Oswiu and the case are.”

Norman backed a pace away from her. “This is insane! I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Darla moved away from the window. Who’d tipped off the captain? It was only the three of them, and they’d been careful. Or so she thought. For a moment Darla considered sending a message to Vi, but if security wasn’t monitoring internal comms, they were idiots.

“Maybe Vi knows—” Darla cut herself off as she realized how close she was to the captain.

“We have been provided with solid proof in the form of audio recordings.” The captain took another step closer to Norman.

Darla leaned forward to get a better view. Could she help Norman at this point? She pictured starting the shuttle and picking him up, then flying away. She glanced around the cockpit. No doubt the ship’s AI had locked everything down, despite what Vi had done—and then there was the issue of opening the shuttle bay doors.

“I could create a distraction,” she whispered as she imagined flying around the shuttle bay. She stopped herself from snorting; that would end up being the death of them all. She stared out at Norman.

“Darla isn’t here. I double crossed her.” Norman let his arms drop to his sides. “My intention was to leave without her.”

Captain Kassinger stepped even closer. “Figures. Since you betrayed me, it doesn’t surprise me you’d betray your partners.”

Norman’s face took on a dark edge.

Darla glanced at the door. She had to do something. She hid her backpack and the case behind a sofa, then quietly approached the door. It opened silently, hidden from the captain and her security contingent. Thankfully they hadn’t bothered deploying any security drones.

She stepped onto the deck and shimmied along the side of the shuttle. She could just make out Norman a dozen paces away. They exchanged a brief glance, and he subtly shook his head.

Darla bit her lip. How dare the moron take the high road and protect her!

“We will tear this ship apart until we find the former Lieutenant Oswiu, but if you turn her in now, there is an opportunity for you,” the captain said.

Norman crossed his arms over his chest. “Jump out an airlock.”

A breath caught in Darla’s throat. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a putz as she’d initially believed.

Captain Kassinger lunged forward until their noses were almost touching. A simple glance in the direction of the shuttle, and Darla would be in full view. “You’ll rot in prison for this!”

As though he were a spring just released from tension, Norman exploded forward. He shoved the captain with both hands. She stumbled back and crashed to the ground, sprawled on her backside.

“Shoot him!” she shouted.

Norman started to sprint in the opposite direction, but the captain was fast enough to trip him. He landed hard on the metal deck, flat on his belly. The captain scrambled to her feet and kicked him in the gut.

“Hands up,” the lead security officer ordered as he skidded to a halt a foot away with his phaser pointed at Norman’s head.

Aware all three of them now had a clear view of her, Darla began inching back toward the open shuttle door.

The captain lifted a leg to kick Norman a second time, but Norman caught her foot, pulling her down on top of him. The security officer fired his phaser at Norman’s chest, but Norman had already rolled.

Time froze as a dart of light pierced the captain’s neck. Darla’s heart sank. It was a fatal shot. This would change everything.

She bolted into the shuttle and closed the door. “Coward,” she told herself as she returned to the window. Watching was her only option. Nothing she could do now would change what had happened.

Outside, Norman pushed the captain’s corpse to the side. The once-proud woman now flopped like a rag doll.

“Keep your hands where we can see them,” shouted someone out of view.

With his lips pressed together, Norman held up his hands as he stood.

“You.” The closest security officer approached Norman, waving his weapon. “You murdered the captain.”

“You took that shot,” Norman said in a level tone.

The security officer pointed at him. “The blame for this falls on you, and you will go to jail for murder.”

“Cuff me, and let’s go.” Norman held out his arms with his wrists together. A sneer spread across his lips. “Who knows what I might do next?”

The security officer gestured for one of his subordinates to cuff Norman. As they did so, Norman shuffled past the nose of Darla’s shuttle.

She held her breath as she realized even now Norman was thinking about her. The putz had given her enough cover from the shuttle to escape. She hesitated, not wanting him to undergo any more pain or suffering but also knowing this was her only chance.

She grabbed the backpack and coat-wrapped case, then opened the door. With her back pressed against the hull, she shuffled sideways toward the next shuttle. When she peered around it, shuttle nineteen was directly in front of her.

“I can’t take you,” Darla whispered, even though she was perfectly capable of flying the craft. In the distance she heard the chaos and panic of the security officers dealing with the captain’s death. If she waited, they would sort themselves out and do a proper search.

She continued around shuttle nineteen. A single door in the wall served as the emergency exit from the bay. Without glancing back, she darted inside and closed the door behind her. Clenching her jaw, she swiftly descended the stairs to reach the escape pods.

Back in the pod she’d left a half hour before, Darla finally allowed herself to fully breathe. A thought she’d been refusing to entertain resurfaced. She, Norman, and Vi had never talked about their plan with anyone in earshot, and they’d always been careful about the ship’s AI. The only possibility their conversations were recorded was if one of them had done it.

“It wasn’t me,” Darla whispered. And clearly it wasn’t Norman. That left only Vi. “She betrayed us.”

Darla bit her lip. Despite sharing a cabin for two years, she realized she’d never truly known her lover. Every part of her wanted to believe Vi was still the person she cared for, but deep down she knew that wasn’t true. The betrayals were too great.

Darla turned and stared at the escape pod’s minimalistic controls. Now Norman was in custody, there was nothing she could do for him. As much as she wanted to come up with a cunning rescue plan, realistically she wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Besides, Norman is a putz,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in insulting him anymore. He’d been unwilling to turn her in. An unexpected twist. “And Vi…” Her words trailed off, and a tear dripped down her cheek. “I just don’t want to think about you right now.”

She wiped away the tear as she moved forward and sat at the escape pod’s controls. They should be close enough to Delve’s Landing for her to make it to the surface.

“But first I need to disable the transponder.” Leaning far to the side, Darla opened a panel next to the floor. Vi had shown her where the transponders were on all the Garden Princess craft. Using her multitool and curse words, she removed the transponder. The device fit easily in the palm of her hand. Since it had its own power source, in theory it was still functioning.

She opened the pod’s door and set the transponder on the deck. From the bridge it would look like the escape pod was exactly where it should be. The ship’s sensors would be unable to detect the tiny pod, and its absence would go unnoticed until someone did a physical check, which wasn’t supposed to happen until the ship reached New Venus.

Darla buckled the seat belt around her waist.

“Norman, I’m sorry.”

She activated the escape pod’s release.

“I’m outta here.”

Chapter 25

Red — Six months ago

Red took off her muddy boots outside before slipping in the back door. She bit her lip as she peeked into the kitchen—her mom had never approved of her hobby of gathering samples from beyond the perimeter of the Habitat. Red relaxed when she saw her mom wasn’t there. Hopefully she was out fixing something at a neighbour’s house.

In case her mom was upstairs, Red tiptoed through the house and out to the garage. She put her samples on the counter and turned on the microscope she’d put together out of discarded parts from the school’s science lab.

“There you are,” Virginia said, causing Red to jump.

Red turned around, wiping the mud on her hands on her pants. “I just got home.”

Virginia stared at her for a moment, then at the microscope on the counter. “Come to the kitchen. I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“Okay,” Red said. Leaving her samples beside the microscope, she followed her mom to the kitchen.

“Sit.” Virginia gestured to a chair at the small table before turning on the kettle. “I think some tea is in order.”

Red sank into the chair. “What’s going on?”

Virginia busied herself with pulling out tea and a teapot. “I think you’re old enough to know about your father.” She spoke with her back to Red.

“You told me he was a bridge officer when you served on the Garden Princess and that he died heroically in an accident.”

Virginia turned and bit her lip. “Yeah, that’s what I told you.” She filled the teapot with boiling water, then sat across from her daughter.

“Are you saying that isn’t true?”

“He was a bridge officer on the Garden Princess—that part is true.” She leaned back in her chair. “But he’s still alive.”

“What?”

“He wasn’t a hero. Instead he was caught for murdering the Garden Princess’s captain.” Virginia frowned for a moment, then stood and gathered the teapot and two mugs. She poured Red a cup of tea.

Red could feel heat rising in her cheeks. Her mother had been lying to her for her whole life! “Why would you lie to me and tell me he died?”

Virginia poured herself a mug of tea, then futzed with adding sugar. She settled back into her chair and sighed. Only then did she meet Red’s gaze. “I thought it would be easier for you to grow up thinking he was a hero.”

“But—”

Virginia cut Red off. “There are no buts. If others here knew your father was serving a life sentence for murder, you would have been treated differently.” She leaned forward and pointed at Red. “For example, the school certainly wouldn’t have turned a blind eye to you taking microscope parts.”

“But I took those out of the garbage.”

“I know. I know.” Virginia’s tone fell into her normal ‘indulgent’ tone Red had heard all her life. “I think you’re old enough to hear about your real father.”

Red scrunched up her face as she debated storming out, but then she wouldn’t get to hear about her dad. And she knew Virginia would use that knowledge as a carrot from now on. She sighed. “Okay, tell me about him.”

“Norman Butterworth was—”

This time Red was the one cutting off her mother. “I thought you said his name was Norman Black.”

Virginia pursed her lips. “I did, because I didn’t want you accidentally finding the truth through a simple web search.”

Red suppressed an urge to tell her mom how much she hated her. Why in the hell would she keep this information from her? Finding out she’d been lied to for years really stung. She sat in silence, not touching the tea her mom had set in front of her.

“Norman and an accomplice robbed one of the wealthy passengers on the ship. They were, of course, caught—that was when Norman killed the captain.”

“Just like that, he murdered the captain?” The story seemed too simple to Red. Clearly her mother was leaving out important details. She had a history of lying, after all.

“Yes. It was a side of him I didn’t expect. Unfortunately, I was already pregnant,” Virginia said.

Red crossed her arms over her chest. “With me.”

“Yes, with you.” Virginia took a sip of tea. “To ensure you would grow up in safety, I brought you here.”

Red locked her gaze with her mother’s. Sure, the Habitat was a safe place to grow up, but she had been lied to her whole life. Even now she was certain she was being lied to. “Where’s my father now?”

“A number of years ago, he was transferred to the prison on Vander’s Edge.”

“That’s the same system as us,” Red said.

Virginia sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, and I forbid it. Norman is a dangerous man. Don’t you dare reach out to him.”

Red said nothing as she got up and left the house. Of course she’d be contacting her dad. She stopped halfway down their street and bit her lip. What her mother hadn’t said was why she was telling the truth now (assuming that was the truth).

Chapter 26

Darla — Seventeen years ago

As the explosive bolts released the escape pod, a series of sharp pops echoed through the confined space. The little pod jerked as it was freed from the ship. Darla clenched her jaw. There was no turning back now; her fate was irrevocably tied to this tiny vessel hurtling through space.

The kicker thruster on the pod’s stern fired, a sudden, jarring force that shoved her deeper into her seat. The g-forces increased, an invisible weight pressing against her chest as the pod accelerated.

Outside, Delve’s Landing loomed large in the forward windows, a breathtaking vista of natural beauty. A swath of dark green forest covered most of the midlatitudes. At the poles, ice caps glistened like crowns of silver, their purity a stark contrast to the darkness of space. The system’s single, blue-hued sun highlighted the world’s thin layer of breathable atmosphere, a delicate veil that clung to the planet and the reason people had settled there.

Darla swallowed over a dry throat. Delve’s Landing wasn’t the winter wonderland it appeared to be from orbit. The absence of large bodies of water was starkly evident, a reminder of the harshness of the terrain below. Her only choice was to land in the endless forest of pointy trees, an option that could spell her doom. These trees, known for their toughness, were unlike any other known tree in the galaxy (yet they looked just like the coniferous trees of Old Earth). A shiver ran up her spine as she contemplated the real possibility of being skewered on impact. The trees were far tougher than an escape pod.

As suddenly as it had begun, the kicker thruster finished its burn. The pod transitioned into weightlessness, creating a surreal calm in the chaos her life had become. Darla floated in her seat, the straps her only tether to stability. As she let her arms drift up, a strange sense of serenity mingled with her fear, a fleeting respite before her perilous descent to the surface of Delve’s Landing.

“Crap!” The moment shattered as Darla realized her coat, the case, and her backpack had begun a surreal dance of liberation. They drifted around the cabin like spectres in a zero-gravity ballet. Unbuckling her lap belt, she moved with deliberate motions to retrieve everything.

After securing her belongings, she stared out the aft window. The Garden Princess, the ship that had been her home and workplace, hung against a backdrop of distant stars and constellations. The Dammar Nebula, with its smudge of purple, provided a contrasting background to the luxury liner’s green hull. The scene was beautiful.

A wave of nostalgia and regret washed over her. Her eyes shifted back and forth between the stolen case and the ship she’d worked on. As a ship’s officer, she would have had the chance to work her way up to captain if she’d played her cards right. But now what did she have? Only military secrets so sensitive she couldn’t sell them without drawing the attention of powerful entities who understood their true worth—and would kill her to get them.

Adrift in space and life, she came to the worst realization of all. She had to face the future alone.

“I’ve been such a fool.” Darla’s voice was barely audible over the hum of the pod’s systems, but then who remained in her life to hear her now? She sighed and longed to return to that moment on the train, to prevent Vi and Norman from turning to a life of crime. Days ago, life had seemed secure and good. She’d had someone to love and a job with a future.

Then she snorted. Vi had been playing her all along. Darla’s life on the Garden Princess had been a facade, and she’d been unaware of the truth lurking beneath even without the crime. “I’m better off on my own.”

She forced her attention back to the planet she’d be crashing into sooner rather than later. First, she confirmed no loose objects remained in the pod. Getting hit by flying objects during a turbulent descent was the last thing she needed. Once done, she returned to the pilot seat and buckled herself in.

The pod’s display offered minimal information. It didn’t have a way to survey the landscape below. With another snort of derision, she grabbed the controls and angled the craft’s nose down into the atmosphere. The view outside became a blur of Delve’s Landing’s infamous ‘trees.’ From this altitude it was impossible to target a landing site.

Darla swallowed as a knot of anxiety churned in her gut. She was a speck hurtling toward an unforgiving land.

Ten minutes later the exterior of the escape pod transformed into a fiery inferno as it descended through the atmosphere. The orange glow engulfed the windows, obliterating her view and plunging the cabin into a hellish light. Outside, the heat built up steadily; inside the pod became warmer and warmer.

The rising temperature felt like an ominous prelude to the impending impact and a fiery death. Gripping the controls until her knuckles turned white, she braced for the final descent.

She checked the hull temperature. It remained within the acceptable limits, but she would be powerless if it hadn’t. Her only option was to locate a gentle spot to land, and gentle spots were limited.

A marvel of natural engineering, Delve’s Landing’s trees rose from the iron-rich soil as more crystal than plant. Their trunks, with the tensile strength of steel girders, were a testament to the planet’s unique ecosystem. But to Darla, in her current predicament, they represented lethal spikes, more than capable of impaling the escape pod on impact. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

As the orange glow dissipated, Darla tightened her grip on the controls until her hands cramped.

“This was a very bad idea.” Endless trees filled her view, a forest of spears that could spell her death. “I’m going to die here, and no one may ever know.”

Then, amid the sea of green, she saw it—a clearing. Her childhood geography lessons tumbled to the forefront of her mind. The iron trees thrived only with the right levels of moisture. Too little, and the ground would be a barren grey; too much, and it would be covered in moss. Moss offered the softest landing she could hope for in this unforgiving terrain, and the ground in the clearing was green.

She fired the pod’s thrusters, noting she had enough fuel to fire them only twice more. She maneuvered the pod, the nose shifting until the mossy patch was directly below. It was a small target, but it was her best chance.

“Here goes nothing,” she declared as the escape pod plummeted to the ground. She fired the thrusters again, each burst fighting the pull of gravity and slowing her descent.

The pod’s automatic algorithms took control just before impact, using the remaining fuel to slow down and adjust its orientation for a successful landing—where success was defined as survivable.

With a teeth-clattering jolt that reverberated through her body, the escape pod hit the ground. The impact was a brutal reminder of the thin line between life and death in this desperate endeavour. For a fleeting moment, the pod seemed to pause, as if gathering its breath, before it was airborne again.

This time when it hit, it rolled to the side with a violent, disorienting force. Motion turned into a blurry chaos, obscuring any sense of up or down. The pod bounced up half as high as the first impact, each collision a brutal assault on both the pod and Darla.

With a final grinding crash, it hit the ground. This time it remained glued to down long enough for Darla to almost release her seat belt, but the respite was short.

Slowly at first, the pod began to roll toward a stand of the formidable trees. With each revolution, it gained momentum and rotated faster. Darla braced herself as best she could, but with only a lap belt to hold her, her body was thrown about.

With a clang, the trees stopped the rolling pod. It came to rest on its side, an abrupt end to the chaotic dance of destruction. All was still.

Darla exhaled with a whoosh. She’d made it. She was alive. She released the buckle holding her in her seat only to fall sideways onto the escape pod’s wall, which gravity now declared was the floor. She lay there for a moment, catching her breath, allowing the reality of her survival to sink in.

“Holy shit, I made it!”

Darla pushed herself upright, her legs unsteady as she adjusted to the pod’s skewed orientation. When she opened the door at the rear, a blast of frigid wind engulfed her. The air carried a metallic tang, more reminiscent of an engine room than untamed wilderness. A shiver coursed through her body, escalating to teeth chattering.

“Crap!”

Moving quickly, she retrieved her coat. She zipped it up to her neck, feeling a wave of warmth. The shivering subsided, replaced by a new sense of urgency.

“I sure as hell can’t stay here, or I’ll freeze to death.”

She stuffed a few of the pod’s meal bars in her backpack and shrugged into it, adjusting the straps over her bulky coat.

With the case’s handle firmly in her grip, she stepped outside. A dense stand of trees pressed against the shuttle’s roof—an impenetrable barrier. Their needle-like leaves and pointed tops gave them an eerie resemblance to the Christmas trees of old but with a metallic, alien twist. The tallest reached her shoulder, yet their formation made passage impossible.

In frustration, she swung the case against the nearest tree. A metallic clang rang out, followed by an unexpected vibration. Emitting a haunting and melodious sound, the tree seemed to echo music from another realm. It was unexpectedly beautiful.

“Well, I’m not going that way.”

Without a transponder to signal for rescue, she had limited options. Walking toward civilization seemed the best choice. Fortunately, farms were common on this planet, and settlements dotted the landscape.

Turning her back to the imposing wall of metallic trees, Darla began her trek.

Chapter 27

Darla — Present day

The insistent beep of my proximity alarm yanked me from sleep. I opened my eyes to find Red standing in the middle of Hank the Hippo’s hologram as if she were a circus performer mastering a wild beast. With a snort, I turned off Hank’s projection. The hippo vanished, leaving Red looking far less ridiculous.

Red’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Wake up.”

Moving my neck from side to side, I sat up in the captain’s chair. “I was having a good nap.” I turned to face her and mirrored her frown for added effect.

Red crossed her arms. “Boris is afraid to set foot on the bridge.”

“That works for me.”

“It’s his ship, you know,” she said.

With an exaggerated sigh, I played along. “Fine, tell him he can come back to his bridge. I promise I won’t bite.” I let the silence stretch, watching as Red seemed to teeter on the edge of bolting.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, about that… They want us off their ship.”

“And we will be, once we get to New Venus.” I stretched up my arms and was rewarded with a symphony of pops from my spine.

Red’s arms remained firmly crossed. “They want us to leave now.”

“What? We’ve already paid for passage.” I leaped to my feet, faster than my old knees appreciated, and began pacing. Through the bridge windows, a sliver of Delve’s Landing’s verdant forest caught my eye.

“Boris has refunded the money—all of it.” Red seemed ready to bolt. The girl was way too easy to intimidate. “Let’s just go. Please?”

“How about I hide in one of their cabins until we arrive? I’ll promise to stay out of everyone’s way.” I met Red’s gaze, and she seemed to wilt.

“Boris has already called up a transport shuttle. It’ll be here in minutes.” Red’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I don’t want to go down there either. I hear that world is a giant freezer.”

“What if I hide under the console? He’ll never find me.”

“Boris will call in the police to have you removed,” she shot back.

“Boris calling the police? That’s like a pirate inviting the navy to tea.”

Red sighed. “Please don’t cause a scene. Let’s go to the planet.” She bit her lip, a plea in her eyes.

I gazed out at Delve’s Landing. It wouldn’t hurt to make a stop there. Besides, there was someone I really should visit.

“Fine,” I said in the flattest tone I could muster. I didn’t want Red to think I was easy to push around.

Ten minutes later Red and I were the sole passengers aboard a taxi shuttle Boris had paid for. (He was definitely losing money on us.) It descended into the atmosphere of Delve’s Landing like a well-maintained machine flown by competent pilots. I allowed myself to relax.

Red and I sat side by side, the silence between us filled by the hum of the shuttle’s engines and Red’s occasional murmurs as she read from her datapad.

“Did you know there is so much iron in Delve’s Landing it has roughly standard gravity yet is a third of the size of most other inhabited planets?” Red rattled off, her eyes not leaving the screen. I wasn’t in the mood for a trivia session, but Red seemed undeterred by my lack of enthusiasm.

“I’ve been to Delve’s Landing before.” I didn’t mention my last visit had been seventeen years ago or that I had stayed for a few years.

She turned to me, her eyes wide. “Oh, so you’ve seen the trees up close?”

“Yes.” I shifted my gaze to the window, hoping she’d take the hint I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts. Below us, Delve’s Landing sprawled out, its surface nearly uniformly covered in iron trees, just as I remembered.

Unfazed, Red continued, “The trees are a type of coral that grows on an iron substrate. Each tree is a colony of hundreds of tiny organisms arranged in a fractal structure. It’s just a coincidence they look like Old Earth conifers.” Her fascination was clear. My patience for fun facts was wearing thin, yet I was stuck with this strange girl. I resigned myself to a fact-filled flight.

By the time the shuttle touched down, Red had bombarded me with more random facts than I’d learned in all my time on the planet. On the plus side, the landing was smooth, the thrusters easing us down until we were firmly on the ground.

The shuttle door opened to the metallic-scented air of this world, a scent etched in my memory. I strode forward, stopping only when I reached the end of the landing pad. A small memorial plaque caught my attention. I stopped to read the names of those who’d died in the explosion seventeen years ago. Mine was among them.

Yeah, faking my death was something I’d done more than once.

Red stopped beside me. “Now what do we do?”

“Did you check the ferry schedule?” I didn’t try to hide my impatience.

“Oh, right.” She pulled out her datapad, squinting as she tried to read the screen in the bright light of the street.

I sighed. “Let’s grab something to eat while you figure that out.” I gestured to a noodle place across the way, its warm glow promising a brief respite from the cold and a chance to plan our next move.

When my steaming bowl of spicy garlic noodles arrived, it was the most appetizing thing I'd smelled in days. Of course, my recent travels had been less ‘five-star hotel’ and more ‘dive bar with questionable hygiene standards.’ My mouth watered in anticipation of the first bite.

“The same ferry we were supposed to be on from Formax will stop here in the morning.” Red’s attention was fixed on her datapad as if it contained the secrets of the universe. How could she ignore the culinary masterpiece in front of her?

“That’s good news.” I didn’t want to show my ignorance by asking where Formax was. It was probably the nasty world we’d just left that I could never remember the name of. Like a seasoned culinary samurai, I twirled a hefty bundle of noodles around my chopsticks.

Red nodded. “And they’ll honour our tickets.”

“Double good.” I slurped up another load of noodles.

“So we’re going to get to the prison on time,” she said, finally acknowledging the existence of her meal and taking a tentative bite.

I paused, a noodle hanging from my mouth. “Has your dad been in jail your whole life?”

“Yeah. I finally met him six months ago,” she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“And what exactly earned him a cell?”

Red just shrugged and devoured more noodles. I leaned back and stared at her. This girl could be making a big mistake. She didn’t even know her dad. What if he took advantage of her naivety?

Red caught my gaze. “What’s up?”

“Where’s your dad going after jail?” I asked.

“A friend offered him a job.”

“A friend from jail?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her focus shifting. “We should hurry to the transport station to catch a ride back to orbit. Shame Boris couldn’t have waited a bit before booting us off.”

I nodded. I was secretly happy to be off Boris’s death trap. I may have been somewhat lax during my tenure as a ship’s captain but never to that level. Besides, there was an old friend here I should drop in on.

As we were wrapping up, the server approached, a serious look on his face. “Our security AI tells me you’re Darla Oswiu. Is that correct?”

I froze, my goggles scanning his face. No match. “Who wants to know?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “There’s a message for you at the bar.”

Curious and a tad suspicious, I wandered to the bar and received a package. Back at the table, I couldn’t shake off a niggling feeling. The noodle shop had a peculiar vibe, with its waving cat statue that looked like it was plotting something nefarious and the beams that seemed more decorative than supportive. The place had a history, and I was starting to think it wasn’t always about serving noodles.

“What’s in the package?” Red asked, her half-empty bowl pushed aside.

I unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a velvet pouch. Inside was a familiar resin statue.

“Is that a rhinoceros?” Red leaned in, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, it’s not,” I said, my heart pounding. Memories flooded back. Vi must have left it for me all those years ago, a relic from a past I thought I’d left behind. Somehow it hadn’t made it to me while I’d hid out here. Maybe it had been lost until the restaurant changed hands.

Red squinted at the statue. “It’s not a bear or lion either, so what the heck is it?”

I sighed. “A hippo. And a whole lot of history I’d prefer to leave buried.”

Chapter 28

Darla — Seventeen years ago

Darla cursed as another bead of sweat dripped into her eye, stinging and blurring her vision. As she trudged along the parched ground, the unyielding heat of the day seemed to worsen. The sparse native fauna offered no reprieve from the scorching sun, and the air was so dry it leeched moisture from her skin. Resigned to her situation, she continued her trudge along the narrow clearing between the metallic trees.

“I should have packed some damn water,” she grumbled. She regretted not grabbing more supplies from the escape pod; there would have been ample drinking water there. It was too late now.

Alone in the middle of an alien landscape, Darla let a wave of despair cascade over her. The escape pod was long out of sight, yet the clearing she followed seemed to stretch on without end, as if she were stuck in a low-end simulation where terrain repeated endlessly. The nagging thought this path might lead nowhere haunted her steps.

“I could die out here, and no one would know.”

The ground beneath her feet crunched with each step, a sound reminiscent of shattering frost, but she knew it couldn’t be. She imagined it was some bizarre form of metallic crystal—probably toxic enough to kill her instantly if she dared melt it for water. She snorted.

Compared to the other worlds humans had settled on, Delve’s Landing was tiny, which meant Darla could clearly see its curvature while walking at ground level. As the blue star of the system began to set, long shadows reached from the forests. The sky shifted to brilliant shades of purple and orange.

“Great, now I’ll be trudging in the dark,” she muttered. The thought occurred to her that the cooler night air could be a welcome escape from the day’s heat.

As darkness fell, the surrounding trees transformed. Glowing orbs sprouted at the tips of each branch, illuminating the clearing with a soft, ethereal light. It was a spectacle that was both utterly ridiculous and breathtakingly beautiful.

Darla couldn’t help but snort again. “Looks like I won’t be trudging in the dark after all.” She found herself unexpectedly grateful for the alien landscape’s bizarre nocturnal display.

A gentle breeze rose, causing the branches to sway and emit a low, creaking sound reminiscent of a failing gravity field. Darla grimaced at the grating noise, but at least the temperature was becoming more bearable.

Twenty minutes later the novelty of the illuminated trees had worn off, and she regretted her earlier wish for cooler temperatures. Despite her parka zipped up to her chin, she shivered.

“This is boring as hell.”

Ignoring the frosty puffs of her breath, she let her imagination wander.

“I need my own personal AR system for company.”

A quirky figure cloaked in bright blue and adorned with silver stars, strumming a lute, would be perfect. In her mind, the figure bowed theatrically before playing a whimsical melody on a harp. The absurdity of the mental image in her desolate surroundings made her chuckle, releasing some of her tension.

With her laughter, her whole body vibrated, and the closest trees quivered in response, their branches adding higher notes to the night’s soundtrack. A personal jester, she thought—that was exactly what she needed in this bizarre, alien world.

She sighed, a small smile playing on her lips, and continued her journey through the glowing forest, her spirits slightly lifted by her imagined companion.

An hour later the sight of brighter lights curving into view broke the monotony of the landscape. The clearing, following another gentle bend, revealed a welcome change.

With a deep sigh of relief, a smile spread across her face. “Civilization at last!”

She quickened her pace, heading directly for the cluster of lights. The first hint of humanity was a series of sprawling greenhouses with long, curved roofs. As she neared, a medley of earthy scents greeted her: fresh herbs and ripening vegetables, a stark contrast to the sterile, metallic-smelling (and -tasting) air she’d been breathing since she’d arrived. Beyond the domed structures lay a dusty lane, its surface covered in the fine, iron-rich soil of the planet, flanked by prefab buildings that formed the community’s main street.

Arriving at the town square, Darla’s gaze focused on a utilitarian shuttle parked at its centre. Its metal exterior reflected the starlight, turning it into a beacon amid the sparse settlement. The shuttle was currently powered down, but she vowed to be on its first trip off world.

The scent of cooking drew her attention to the diner across the road. It beckoned her with a sign that boasted of apple pie made from Red Apple Colony apples—imported fresh off the tree! Her stomach growled, guiding her to the promise of real, terrestrial food.

Inside, the comforting aroma of baked goods, mingling with the robust scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, enveloped Darla. The sounds of a catchy tune playing from a faux-antique jukebox filled the small space. Red-checkered tablecloths adorned the tables, adding a quaint touch to the cozy interior. She slid into a vinyl-covered booth, the material cool against her skin. The anticipation of a slice of homemade pie was almost overwhelming.

“What is this place?” she asked the grey-haired server, whose name tag identified her as Betty.

Betty gave her a quizzical look. “Did you just fall out of the sky or something?”

“Something like that.” Darla’s fingertips idly traced the intricate stitching that zigzagged the seat’s sides and back.

Betty shrugged, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “In that case, welcome to Main Town, the hub of Delve’s Landing.”

Darla glanced out the window, taking in the quiet street. Hub might have been an overstatement, but it was civilization. She had made it; her escape was complete. She smiled.

“The sign outside mentioned pie?”

After devouring three generous slices, each crowned with a lavish dollop of whipped cream, Darla leaned back in her seat. She let herself linger with a feeling of satisfaction and indulgence. Around her the diner was modestly busy, with a few tables occupied by locals who seemed absorbed in their conversations. Betty, the server, appeared to have a sixth sense about when to give space, letting Darla linger in her booth without interruption.

What Darla craved now, more than anything, was the luxury of kicking off her boots and sinking into a steaming hot bath. But first she needed to check on a few things. She retrieved her datapad from her bag and set up a complex routing through multiple servers, including one typically used for DeepNet traffic. She muttered to herself, “That should keep me anonymous.”

Two recent messages waited for her. The first was from the owners of the Garden Princess. As expected, they had terminated her contract, citing ‘conduct unbecoming,’ and banned her from the ship. With a flick of her finger, she deleted the message.

The second message was from Vi’s personal account. As soon as Darla spotted the sender’s name, a wave of heat flushed her face. The sting of Vi’s betrayal remained raw, too painful to confront. With a shaky breath, she shut the datapad, unable to bring herself to read the message. Anger bubbled inside her, but it was the sharp ache of betrayal by someone she’d trusted, someone she’d believed loved her, that hurt the most. She slouched in her chair, her body tense with unresolved emotions, her mind a tumult of confusion and hurt.

Betty approached, holding a carafe of coffee. “Is there anything else I can get you, dear?”

Darla looked up, her thoughts momentarily disrupted. “Is there a hotel in town?”

Betty pointed upward. “We can rent you a room right above the diner. They aren’t fancy, but they’re clean and comfortable.”

A smile broke through Darla’s troubled expression. “That would be fantastic.” She had no plan for what came next, but she knew a good night’s sleep in a proper bed would be a start. Perhaps with some rest, she could untangle the knot of emotions and decide her next move.

Betty’s description of the room turned out to be accurate—it was clean, basic, and unassuming. The walls were a neutral shade, adorned with a single framed print of a generic landscape. A small window let in a slice of moonlight. Darla sank onto the narrow single bed, its springs creaking slightly under her weight. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp scent of lemon cleaner, grateful she’d found somewhere clean.

“I guess it’s time to take stock of what I have,” she murmured to herself.

She placed the stolen case on her lap and flipped it open. Hank the Hippo, with his cheerful smile, was the first thing to greet her. “Foolish nonsense,” she muttered, though a part of her couldn’t help but feel a twinge of affection for the familiar face. With a mix of fondness and frustration, she set the Hank the Hippo notebook on the bed next to her.

Next she pulled out the 3D-printed train she’d made for Vi. Her fingers traced the sleek contours of the engine, the vibrant blue paint standing out against the room’s blandness. The memory of pulling the freshly printed model from the tray seemed like a lifetime ago.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Just a day prior, she’d had a future with Vi, a job that provided direction, a life that made sense. Now all that was gone. She placed the model train aside, feeling the weight of her new reality.

Turning to her datapad, Darla started a search on herself. She half expected to see her name plastered across news feeds, arrest warrants, or at least some gossip about the chaos on the Garden Princess. But to her surprise, there was nothing. No mention of any incident, no hint of her supposed crimes.

“Odd,” she said aloud, her forehead furrowing. The lack of information was disconcerting. Was it possible they had covered up her actions, or was something else at play? The mystery added another layer to her already complicated situation.

Darla lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint hum from the diner below was the only sound. A mix of exhaustion and anxiety consumed her, her mind racing with questions about her future and the enigmatic silence surrounding her past actions.

With a snort, she sat up and grabbed her datapad. “I can’t stay here.” She booked herself a ticket on the morning shuttle heading off world. A flashing icon reminded her she had a single unread message—the one from Vi. “I might as well see what she has to say for herself.” Bracing herself, she tapped the screen to open the message.

Vi’s holographic face materialized above the datapad, more vivid than Darla was prepared for. The familiar wrinkle between Vi’s brows sank deeper than usual, and her lips pressed together in a strained expression. A pang of loss formed in Darla’s chest.

“I hope you are okay when you get this,” Vi began, her voice tinged with something that sounded like genuine concern. She paused, glancing over her shoulder, and Darla felt a surge of frustration. Where was Vi? Was she still aboard the Garden Princess or perhaps in the custody of the Protectorate forces? The lack of background in the recording offered no clues.

“I know you betrayed me, but…” Darla’s voice trailed off. Despite everything, it was still the face of the woman she loved, the woman she had shared so much with.

Vi continued, “I checked and saw one of the escape pods was gone. And I found its transponder.” A small, hollow smile flickered on her lips. “I’m proud you remembered what to do.” She bit her lip, a gesture Darla had always found endearing but now seemed sad. “I hope you have those data storage devices. Our plan is going to hinge on that.”

Darla frowned deeply at the screen. “What the hell? Our plan was shot when you turned us in,” she muttered, fully aware she was speaking to a recording.

Vi’s message ended with a plea. “I need you to contact me. There’s a very short window where we can sell the case’s contents. Call me.” Then her face winked out, leaving Darla alone in the room with her swirling thoughts.

“You betrayed me,” Darla said softly, speaking to the empty air as if Vi could hear her. The betrayal had created a deep wound, one that likely wouldn’t close for years, maybe ever.

With a heavy sigh, Darla tucked the datapad away. She slid the case under the narrow bed. Stretching out, she closed her eyes, her body and mind exhausted from the day’s events.

As she drifted to sleep, her mind wrestled with what to do next. The answers, she hoped, would be clearer in the morning after a proper night’s rest. She allowed the fatigue to overtake her and pull her into temporary oblivion.

Chapter 29

Darla — Seventeen years ago

A wash of vivid morning light, the kind that only a blue-hued sun could cast, bathed the small room. Darla groaned as the unwelcome brightness cut her sleep short, a reminder she’d forgotten to close the blinds.

“Damn it!” She pulled a pillow over her head to block out the light.

A headache was already brewing, a physical manifestation of the disaster her life had become. She let out a moan as the weight of her situation pressed down on her. After a few moments, she rolled onto her back, her eyes tracing the simple patterns on the ceiling.

“I gotta keep moving,” she whispered to herself, trying to muster the energy to face the day. Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, punctuating her thoughts. “After breakfast.”

Pushing herself up, Darla realized she had slept in her clothes. They were now crumpled and creased, adding to her disheveled appearance. She grabbed the case and her backpack and set them on the bed. With a yawn, she scratched the back of her head and shuffled the few steps to the window.

Outside she saw a tractor slowly pulling a wagon down the main street, laden with some sort of green crop. Besides the farmer, only a few people were out, each moving with a determined stride that spoke of morning routines and daily chores.

As her gaze drifted to the shuttle pad, she noticed something new. “That wasn’t there last night.”

Parked beside the utilitarian shuttle was a sleek, unmarked vessel. Its lack of registration numbers set off alarm bells in her head. Protectorate security forces or organized crime? Darla swallowed as nerves fluttered in her gut. Was its arrival a coincidence or something more ominous?

She turned her attention to the case on the bed. Inside, the pouch of secret memory devices seemed to taunt her with its presence. “Crap. If I’m caught with these…” Her voice trailed off as images of handcuffs and a prison cell flashed in her mind. The first thing she needed to do was get rid of the incriminating evidence.

She sank into the mattress, opened the case, and pulled out the Hank the Hippo notebook and train model. With care, she tucked them in her backpack.

“That shuttle’s arrival can’t be a coincidence,” she muttered to herself, a sense of foreboding settling over her.

A knock sounded at her door, and Darla jumped. She was trapped in the room with no escape route, and her heart pounded against her rib cage. She turned to face the door, her fingers gripping the stolen case like a lifeline.

“Come in?” she called, her voice wavering as she realized it was too late to hide the case.

The door slid open, and there stood Vi, but she wasn’t holding herself with her usual calm confidence. She stood in silence for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. “Are you sure I can come in?” she asked, biting her lip.

“How?” Darla’s words faltered as her mind raced. The last person she expected to see was Vi. “How are you here?”

“I put a tracking device in your backpack,” Vi admitted, her gaze not meeting Darla’s.

“You…” A mix of shock and betrayal washed over Darla.

Vi raised a hand. “Before you get upset, let me explain.”

Darla, arms crossed, met Vi’s gaze with a faked hardness. “It’d better be good.”

“We were never going to escape with that case,” Vi started.

Darla’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

Vi brushed a lock of hair from her face, a gesture that had once stirred Darla’s desire. Now it left her cold. “Protectorate security forces were closing in on Haoyu. He was bound to get caught with the case.”

“The passenger we stole from?” Darla felt her world tilt.

“Yeah,” Vi confirmed. “Mrs. Long wanted me to ensure the case ended up with her.”

“Who’s Mrs. Long? And how are you involved in all this?” Darla’s mind was reeling. There had to be a connection to Long Enterprises, the biggest crime family in this sector of the galaxy.

“Norman was just a tool, and…” She gestured to her belly, reminding Darla of the other betrayal.

“He trusted you.” Darla’s urge to escape intensified. The woman before her was no longer the Vi she’d known and loved.

“He’s a murderer,” Vi countered with a dismissive wave.

“I was there, Vi. He didn’t murder the captain. One of the security guards fired the fatal shot.” Darla swallowed. “Norman’s being framed—by you.”

Vi’s expression didn’t change as she pointed to the case. “We’re going to get paid. Enough for a ship.”

“A ship for criminal activities?” Darla’s stomach churned. Vi was being cagey and avoiding the important questions, which wasn’t like her. Once, Darla had thought Vi told her everything, but now…

Vi sighed. “Let’s just go. We’ll figure everything out later.”

“No.” Darla paused. Her instinct told her Vi wasn’t to be trusted. In that moment she knew if she went with Vi, she’d end up like Norman—or worse. “I want half in my account before you touch the case.”

“You can’t be serious!” Vi’s eyebrows rose.

“I’m not joining your life of crime. I’m out. I’ll be making my own way from here,” Darla stated.

Vi hesitated, then activated her comms device, seemingly using disrupter technology to keep the conversation private. After a moment Vi motioned for Darla to check her account. A staggering sum was now in her possession. She quickly transferred it to a secure account, then pushed the case toward Vi.

Tears blurred Darla’s vision as Vi took it. A part of her longed to cling to their past, but she knew it was over.

Vi opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped. With a heavy sigh, she turned and walked away, leaving Darla alone in the room.

As the door slid shut, Darla finally allowed herself to break down, tears streaming down her face. The pain of betrayal, the loss of love, and the uncertainty of her future flooded her with a torrent of emotion. She went to the window.

Below, Vi exited the building. Her confident stride toward the unmarked shuttle didn’t escape Darla’s notice, nor did the two imposing figures who met her. Their brief exchange sent a shiver through Darla, especially when they pointed to her building. Were they planning something sinister?

Vi’s entanglement with a crime family was a dangerous development, one that might not allow Darla to walk away easily. The thought made her stomach flip.

As Darla watched, an armed woman emerged around the ferry shuttle, joining the conversation. After a few words, they all boarded the sleek craft. The shuttle’s engines hummed to life, and it ascended into the sky, disappearing into the blue atmosphere.

“Think, Darla,” she whispered to herself. She was vulnerable here, an easy target for anyone who might come looking. She needed to be unpredictable, to do something they wouldn’t anticipate.

Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the sparse furnishings and the narrow bed she’d slept in. The room, once a refuge, now felt like a trap. She had to move—and fast. She gathered her belongings, stuffing everything in her backpack.

“Be a ghost. Vanish without a trace.”

She stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her. Her steps were light but purposeful as she made her way down the hall.

“Be smart. Stay one step ahead.”

Doing her best to keep it together, Darla descended the stairs to the restaurant.

The familiar figure of Betty greeted her with a warm smile. “Good morning, hon. You up for some breakfast? The ferry shuttle won’t be heading up for another hour.” Betty casually thumbed a table where a group of pilots in flight suits were engaged in light conversation over coffee. “The pilots haven’t even had their breakfast yet.”

Darla’s gaze lingered on the ferry crew, their easy banter and relaxed demeanour a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within her. Her stomach twisted at the thought of boarding another spacecraft, of leaving the planet and potentially exposing herself to more danger. She swallowed. Her plan had been to run as far away as she could, but running wasn’t the answer.

“I think I’m going to stay on Delve’s Landing a bit longer,” she said, her voice more decisive than she felt. Staying put was a deviation from the expected plan, a way to throw Vi’s associates off her trail.

Betty cocked her head but said nothing.

“Do you know if anyone around here needs an extra hand? Preferably somewhere outside Main Town.”

Betty’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I saw that woman who was asking about you leave earlier. She looked none too pleased.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Just in case you don’t know, those unmarked shuttles usually belong to crime syndicates.”

“I’m aware.” Darla sighed.

Betty’s face turned serious. “So are you involved with them?”

Was she? Darla took a deep breath. It seemed she’d been tricked into doing their bidding through Vi. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

Betty pursed her lips as she studied Darla. It seemed like the server had the superpower to see right into her. After a what felt like an eternity, Betty spoke. “Never mind that. Just tell me this. Are you a good person?”

The question took Darla by surprise. “I don’t know anymore,” she confessed, her voice tinged with weariness. “But I can promise I stay true to my word, and I’ll be good to the people around here.”

Betty studied Darla for another long moment, this time as if weighing Darla’s sincerity. Finally she gave a small nod. “All right then. Grab a seat at the bar, and I’ll make a few calls.”

Darla moved to the bar, the weight of her backpack a constant reminder of the reality she now faced. As she sat, she thought through her options. If running was off the table, laying low was what remained. She’d find somewhere safe until she could figure out her next move. Delve’s Landing was as good a place as any.

Betty slid a mug of coffee in front of her, then she vanished into the back—hopefully not to call law enforcement and turn Darla in.

With both hands, she lifted the mug to her lips. She took a sip and nearly spat out the liquid. It was terrible stuff. The iron in the water didn’t combine well with the bitter brew. With a sigh, she drank it anyway. After a glance at the jovial flight crew, she returned her attention to the door Betty had gone through.

“Trusting her is the best bad choice,” Darla muttered under her breath.

A few minutes later, Betty reemerged from the back and grinned. “Good news.” She refilled Darla’s barely touched mug. “My brother needs someone to help him tend the tomatoes.”

“In one of the greenhouses on the edge of town?” Darla’s mind still whirled with worry about how to best lay low. Living as a fugitive was new to her, after all.

“No, nothing that close. Gan’s a bit of a loner, likes his space. His greenhouse is down at Wiggle Gorge, quite a ways from here.”

“Wiggle Gorge?” Darla snorted. “Did the explorers run out of names?”

Betty chuckled, a hand briefly covering her mouth. “You might think so, but there’s a reason for the name. The local plant life there… Well, it has a way of moving that earned it that nickname.”

Darla nodded. “Being out of town works for me. How do I get to this Wiggle Gorge?”

“Gan’s out back right now, offloading tomatoes for the diner.” Betty gestured to the rear of the building. “Go meet him. But just a heads-up—Gan’s not much for conversation.”

“That works for me.” Darla finished her coffee, its warmth offering little comfort against the disgusting flavour. Betty moved away to check on the other patrons.

As Darla stood, she glanced at the ferry flight crew. They represented a world more familiar to her, one she understood. She reconsidered taking the ferry shuttle. On Delve’s Landing, she was stepping into the unknown, trusting strangers in a bid to stay safe. But Vi would expect her to keep moving.

“Staying put is the right choice,” she said to herself, hoping she was right.

She adjusted the straps on her backpack, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, and all she could do was navigate it as best she could.

Within seconds of meeting Gan, it was clear Betty was wrong; Gan did like to talk. His voice had a friendly, if slightly gruff, tone as he spoke animatedly. He started right in on the history of how he and Betty ended up living on Delve’s Landing. Darla sighed as she got in his truck.

“I bought myself this place about five years ago,” Gan continued, steering the old, open-topped truck out of town. The vehicle was sturdy and well used, and its engine hummed comfortably as they moved. Darla appreciated the clear view it offered of the landscape, currently dominated by rows of long greenhouses.

“How far out of town is it?” Darla scanned her surroundings as if goons were about to descend on her from anywhere. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she was safe—probably.

“It’ll take us about an hour to get there,” Gan replied, his hands firmly on the wheel. “I wanted to be away from all this.” He gestured broadly at the town receding behind them. “My place is far from the politics and crowds here.”

“Politics and crowds?” Darla had barely seen anyone since they’d left the diner.

In the city square behind them, the ferry shuttle lumbered into the air. Darla twisted in her seat to watch. Unlike the sleek craft Vi left in, this one seemed cumbersome as it ascended—normal performance for the workhorse that it was.

Without warning, the sky was torn apart by a blinding flash of white light. The shuttle exploded midair, disintegrating into millions of pieces that glittered like deadly confetti against the blue sky.

The shock wave hit with such force that Darla felt as if she had been struck by a speeding vehicle. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide in terror.

Gan slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a jarring halt. Both jumped out, staring as remnants of the shuttle rained down on the greenhouse roofs, the sound of their impact echoing in the air.

“I was supposed to be on that shuttle.” Darla’s voice trembled with the realization of how close she had come to being aboard.

Gan turned to look at her, his expression shifting from shock to concern. “Then get back in,” he urged, his voice firm. “We should get out of here. You don’t need to see the aftermath.”

Darla nodded. The implications of the explosion began to hit her. A half hour ago she’d watched the flight crew joking around as they enjoyed their breakfast—their last meal, it turned out. Their deaths were on her, as there was no way a shuttle like that would just explode.

“That wasn’t an accident,” she muttered, too low for Gan to hear. It had been an attempt to kill her.

Numbness settled over her as she climbed back into the truck. As Gan started the engine and drove on, Darla knew one thing for certain: her decision to stay on Delve’s Landing had just been vindicated in the most dramatic way possible. And the cost had been great. Too many innocent people had paid a heavy price for what Darla had done. It was going to take a long time to figure out how to get her mind around everything that had happened.

Chapter 30

Darla — Present day

“I know a place we can go.” I wiped the last bit of noodles off my face. Yeah, I’d known exactly where I wanted to go since we’d set foot on this world.

“Why don’t we rent a room here?” Red pointed to a sign announcing rooms were available to rent. She pushed her barely touched noodles aside.

The mere thought of those rooms above, laden with memories of my last encounter with Vi, sent a shiver down my spine. “Nah, it’s too noisy in town,” I lied, hoping my expression didn’t betray my inner turmoil.

Red let out a snort that suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced, which I ignored. Instead I commandeered her bowl of noodles and started devouring them. They were disappointingly mild—a culinary offence in my book—but hunger overruled my taste buds. Red, seemingly unbothered by my noodle heist, busied herself with her datapad, giving me the silent treatment.

Ten minutes later, after I’d picked up the tab, we emerged onto the street. Wiggle Gorge was well beyond walking distance, but Main Town had evolved from the sleepy settlement I remembered into a place with a car rental stand next to the shuttle station.

Pulling my goggles over my eyes, I led the way across the street, Red trailing behind me. Scents of dust and dry grass hung in the air—the perfume of Main Town. I approached the car rental stand, my steps filled with purpose, and secured a rugged off-road vehicle that looked like it could handle a postapocalyptic landscape. Why not prepare for the worst-case scenario? (Okay, I just wanted to drive the beast.) We piled into the car.

As she looked around, Red smirked.

“What?”

She gestured at the vehicle. “This is oh, so subtle.”

I snorted and turned it on. The vehicle didn’t make a sound. “Subtlety’s overrated.” We set off, leaving behind a trail of dust.

“Why were you here before?” Red’s question jolted me alert as we navigated past the endless rows of greenhouses. The road was smoothly paved, yet another sign of the town’s development since my last visit. “Were you piloting shuttles like that ferry one?” She pointed at the shuttle pad behind us.

“Nope. I spent three years helping a farmer with his tomatoes.”

“Tomatoes?” Red’s question held barely concealed skepticism.

“Yeah, tomatoes,” I answered more sharply than intended. She probably wasn’t mocking my time tending vegetables. We all had to eat.

The memories of those years at Gan’s farm rushed back to me. It was a time of isolation and introspection that probably saved my life, a self-imposed exile where I’d grappled with my past. That farm had been my sanctuary, a place to stay hidden and heal, albeit partially. I was aware I remained grumpy as hell.

As we drove on, my thoughts drifted to the shuttle explosion meant to take my life. Instead it had claimed the lives of seven innocent people. The weight of their deaths still weighed on me, a burden of guilt I carried every day.

Red must have sensed the shift in my mood and wisely stayed silent. Part of me wanted to distract myself with my goggles, to overlay Red’s image with Hank the Hippo for a moment of whimsy. But I refrained, perhaps a sign of some emotional growth on my part. (Perhaps I’m capable of that kind of woo-woo shit.)

The greenhouses created a shimmering, geometric mosaic across the landscape. The glass-and-metal structures reflected a spectrum of colours. It should have been a beautiful sight, but to me it seemed jarringly out of place. My mood craved a setting that mirrored my inner turmoil, a landscape of despair and gloom. The cheerful greenhouses, brimming with life and growth, only intensified my sense of disconnection from the world around me.

As we ventured farther from the town, the landscape transformed. The greenhouses, with their orderly rows and vibrant life, gave way to a wilder terrain. Sharp trees encroached on either side, their silhouettes like silent sentinels watching our passage. The sun cast long shadows through their pointed branches, creating patterns that danced across the road.

“We should be there in less than an hour,” I said as the smooth pavement yielded to a rough gravel road that jostled us with its uneven surface.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“To see a friend of mine, the tomato farmer, remember?”

Red exhaled audibly, “Right. But why not just get a room in town?”

“We already discussed this.” I kept my voice firm despite my anxiety. I hadn’t expected Delve’s Landing to have this kind of effect on me. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t been back.

“It wasn’t much of a discussion.” Red’s eyes narrowed. “This diversion appears pointless. We don’t have time for a reunion. You should come here after we get my dad.”

I gritted my teeth. “This is what we’re doing.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. But you gotta tell me why we’re going way out of our way to visit a tomato farm.”

My heart rate picked up, the question cutting deeper than I cared to admit. I wasn’t ready to reveal the complex mix of emotions stirred up by Vi’s unexpected gift. “Well, you see…”

The memories of my time at Gan’s farm surfaced unbidden. He had taken me in when I was at my lowest, giving me a place to heal. I had spent three years there, lost in the routine of nurturing tomato plants and nursing my broken heart. I sighed.

“The farmer is an old friend, and I don’t want to pass up the chance to see him again.” I swallowed hard and didn’t admit I hadn’t thought of Gan until I’d received Vi’s package. Red was right; I could return when I was done with her ‘job.’ “And his place is way nicer than any room in town.”

Red looked at me, her expression softening. “Why in the hell didn’t you just start with that?”

I couldn’t help but snort. The road stretched out ahead, leading us to a past I had left behind and a future I was still trying to figure out.

The rest of the ride to Wiggle Gorge was essentially navigating through an alien maze. The path, which no longer fit the category of ‘road,’ narrowed as we went. The sharp branches on each side scraped against the rental vehicle with a sound that cut through my skull.

As we arrived at the gorge with the sun beginning its descent, the landscape opened. I stopped at the cliff’s edge, and we both got out. A breathtaking view greeted us as we stood on the flat rock ledge.

The gorge cut through the landscape with surgical precision, creating a stark contrast to the wild terrain we’d just traversed. Where we stood, it was roughly two hundred metres across with steep, unforgiving walls. Below, a creek innocently meandered, its water a ribbon of silver in the fading light.

“That’s something.” Red’s voice carried a note of awe.

My gaze was fixed on a particular spot in the distance. “Look over there.” Pointing at the setting sun, I directed her attention to Gan’s dome, its triangular panels glinting in the sunlight. The patchwork of geometric shapes looked exactly as I remembered.

“So that’s where we’re going.”

“Let’s see if Gan’s home.” I headed back to the vehicle, and Red followed.

As we drove along the cliff’s edge, Red asked, “So why’s it called Wiggle Gorge?”

“You’ll see,” I replied with a hint of mystery, a smile playing on my lips.

At Gan’s door, I raised my fist to knock (his doorbell had never worked), then hesitated. It had been years. Would he welcome me? In all that time I’d never even sent him a note. I had to admit sometimes I was a jerk. I swallowed and knocked.

A few moments later, the door slid open. Gan stood there smiling, and suddenly I felt like I’d come home.

“The AI said you’d returned.” Gan’s white hair was wilder than I remembered, and his bushy eyebrows seemed to have a life of their own, but otherwise he was exactly the same.

I returned his smile. “I said I would.”

“I never doubted you.” He pulled me into a tight embrace before extending a hand to Red. “Welcome! Come inside. There is much to discuss!”

Red and I followed him into his residence. Inside was a cozy jumble of mismatched furniture and odd trinkets, each with a story I was sure Gan was eager to share. Red’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the eccentric decor.

“So about why it’s called Wiggle Gorge…” Red began, but Gan held up a hand.

“Patience, my dear. All will be revealed in good time.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as he led us deeper into his home.

After a filling dinner (Gan could always whip up something quickly that left you thinking he’d cooked for hours), he and I sat on his patio under the dome. Red was out wandering around the plants.

“You know, she reminds me a lot of you,” Gan said as we gazed out at his prized tomatoes.

I snorted. “I was never that placid. Nor did I do anything that ridiculous with my hair.”

Gan chuckled softly at my snort. “You may not have had Red’s adventurous hair, but you were just as lost.”

I rolled my eyes. “I like to think I had a bit more common sense.”

“Hmmm.” Gan’s response was noncommittal, a twinkle in his eye suggesting he thought otherwise. With a glance or a single word, he had the power to make me question everything.

After finishing her circuit of the tomato plants, Red headed back to us. Her hair stood out as the most vivid among the sea of reds in the greenhouse, like a flame walking through a field of fruit.

I sighed. “She wasn’t what I expected when I took her job.”

Gan’s smile widened. “Life has a way of throwing us curveballs.”

“I mean, hiring me to pick up her convict father? That’s not exactly a run-of-the-mill gig.” My voice trailed off as I pondered the oddity of it all.

“Weird but perfectly legal,” Gan pointed out. “Seems like a simple task that didn’t warrant faking your own death.”

I shrugged. “I’ve had too many close calls recently. Someone’s out to get me, and I needed a fresh start.”

“And here you are at my doorstep.” Gan’s voice was warm.

Red settled into the chair beside me. “What are we talking about?”

Gan glanced at me, then said with a hint of amusement, “Darla’s always been a bit paranoid.”

“That’s not true. I’m just cautious.” I gestured at Red. “But it’s good to be back in a place that feels safe.”

Red leaned in, her gaze intense. “Neither of you have told me why this place is called Wiggle Gorge.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her persistence, choosing to keep the mystery alive a little longer. “Let’s just say it’s one of those things you have to see to believe.”

Red raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. The mystery of Wiggle Gorge remained.

Chapter 31

Red — Present day

Red paced back and forth in the small room Gan had given her. It was cozy, and the bed’s poofy comforter and pillows seemed inviting, but Red couldn’t shake a feeling of unease. She wasn’t supposed to be on Delve’s Landing, and beyond that, she certainly wasn’t supposed to be staying at a remote homestead. As nice as Gan seemed, she didn’t want to be here.

With a huff, she sat on the bed. She opened her datapad to find forty-seven messages from her mother. Forty-seven! After tossing the datapad aside, she stood and went to the window. All it showed her was the now-dark tomato patch.

“Why is this place called Wiggle Gorge?” she said to the empty room.

She sighed and glanced back at the datapad. She’d message her mother, then head out to explore.

Virginia’s head appeared in the air as soon as Red placed the call. “Red, honey, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Red frowned at the hologram. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m capable of taking care of myself.” She didn’t mention how she’d been robbed or how Darla was bullying her.

Virginia pursed her lips. “Of course, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’ve just been worried, especially after you took off like you did.”

“Look, I’m fine. I just wanted to do some things.”

“Like help your father?”

Red bit her lip.

“I know you’ve gone to see him a few times, and that’s totally fine.”

“You knew?”

“Of course.” Virginia smiled; to Red, her mother’s expression seemed smug.

“It’s none of your business what I’ve been doing,” Red said in a sullen tone.

Virginia stared at her, and a silence drew out between them. “Why don’t you come home? That’s why you called, right?”

“The Habitat isn’t my home anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“So you’re heading to Blue Moon Colony? Do you have a room in the dorms?” Virginia paused for a moment. “I still think the program at Seven Soaring Swans is a better fit—and you can attend remotely. You’ve even been accepted into the most prestigious program with Dr. Fuller.”

“I didn’t apply there.” Red felt her cheeks flush.

“I know. I put in the application for you.”

Red shook her head. “I’m not going there.”

“Stop being so childish,” Virginia said. “You need to come home now. If you need money, I can transfer you some. Where are you?”

“I gotta go.” Red ended the call, and Virginia’s face vanished.

Red stood and resumed pacing her tiny room. After a few minutes, she grabbed her jacket.

“I’m going exploring,” she said to no one.

Chapter 32

Darla — Present day

The early morning found me alone in the greenhouse, where the humid air was rich with the earthy scent of growing things. Sunlight streamed through the glass panels, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was a serene moment, a rare slice of peace in my tumultuous life.

I wandered among the rows of plants, my fingers brushing the dewy leaves. I plucked a perfectly ripe yellow cherry tomato, its skin smooth and taut under my touch. As I popped it in my mouth, the sweet, tangy flavour exploded on my tongue, a vivid reminder of simpler times. Unable to resist, I took another, savouring the rush of sweetness.

I slipped on my AR goggles and summoned Hank the Hippo, whose hologram appeared beside me. He ambled along at my pace, a silent observer to my thoughts. Hank had a way of being present without being intrusive, a perfectly coded confidant.

“What am I doing?” I asked Hank.

In his typical wise manner, Hank offered no response while continuing his steady, virtual stride beside me.

I sighed, the sound echoing in the greenhouse. “I have to admit I enjoy being back here again.” The familiar setting stirred a pleasant mix of nostalgia and contemplation within me.

I’d saved and stashed enough credits now to buy another ship. The idea of returning to my life dealing with antiques, no longer hiding in the shadows, was appealing (assuming no one tried to kill me). Yet it would mean embracing solitude once again.

But deciding my future was a task for later. Right now I had Red’s job to finish and the elusive map to Old Earth to secure. One step at a time, I reminded myself.

As I continued through the greenhouse, the quiet of the plants and the steady presence of Hank at my side brought a sense of calm. Being here was exactly what I needed.

A gust of metallic-smelling wind washed over me as I reached the last row of tomatoes. I shivered, then it hit me. The frigid outside air should not be inside the dome. When I glanced back at the residence pod, Gan was nowhere to be seen. It was early, so he was probably still asleep.

“Shit, I’d better investigate.” I headed toward the source.

Behind a thriving grapevine was an emergency airlock, and it stood wide open. One of Gan’s robots lurked beside it—a TUD unit, also known as a totally useless device.

“What’s going on?” I asked the robot as I turned off Hank (for now). I put my hand on the manual handle to the inside door.

“One has gone outside,” the TUD unit replied. There was a seven painted on its chest.

I groaned. All TUD units were pieces of crap incapable of being useful. Seven’s cryptic answer only solidified my opinion.

“Okay, who went outside?” I stepped through the inside door and approached the outside one. Within seconds I was shivering. The standard whimsical Delve’s Landing nightscape extended beneath a starry sky.

The iron trees bloomed along the top of the gorge. (I didn’t have a better word for the glowing bobbles that formed on the branches, and I’d never bothered to look them up.) They highlighted the cliffs in jaunty red, greens, and golds, better than the Old Earth Christmas postcards I’d once collected. The perfect star field behind them only added to the effect.

I turned back to the stupid TUD unit. “Are your servos frozen? I asked who went outside.”

“The newcomer who is not you,” it said.

I snorted. Maybe Gan programmed his units to give obscure answers.

“Did you see which way she went?”

“Yes,” TUD Seven replied. If I’d had something to throw at it, I would have.

“Show me.” I moved so my back was against the wall of the airlock and let the robot pass by. I followed it into the night.

It led me down the gorge and downstream—assuming the mostly frozen trickle of water in the centre could be called a stream—to where the gorge began to widen. After a half hour of walking and shivering, as I’d foolishly not stopped for a jacket, the landscape dropped about a metre. Extending below was a field of wiggles.

Now, wiggles were one of those things that were a little hard to describe without… Well, okay. They looked like a field of dildos twitching. In the darkness, with only a stupid robot to witness me, I felt heat rise on my face. Why in the hell had I brought the TUD unit with me?

“Red?” I shouted. Nothing.

I turned to the TUD unit. “Show me where she is.”

“Unable to comply. I do not have a view on the human.”

Well, shit. I took a deep breath and adjusted the AR setting on my goggles to overlay infrared. Guess what? The wiggles were hot. There was no way to pick out a human in that mess.

“Red!” I shouted again.

“Here” came a faint reply.

My goggles pinpointed the reply. Red was just over the edge, about twenty metres to my right. I rushed over.

“What the hell! Why would you wander off?” I stopped on the edge. “Oh, are you okay?”

She was sitting up, surrounded by the wiggles. “I twisted my ankle.” She frowned as she looked at me. “I didn’t intend to come down here, but the edge gave way.” She pointed to where the canyon floor seemed more rounded, and my goggles told me there had been a minor slide less than an hour ago.

“Why come out here at all?”

“Can you just help me out?”

Taking care not to get too close to the edge that had collapsed on Red, I crawled over and dropped a metre to the level with the wiggles. As I pushed through them, they twitched against my thighs in a way I despised. (I’d always thought the wiggles were disgusting.)

“May I assist?” the TUD unit asked.

“Yeah, by not falling off the damn edge,” I said as I reached Red. I stomped around on the wiggles until the surrounding area was clear. “You still haven’t told me why you came out here alone.”

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Because I didn’t think you’d tell me why this place is called Wiggle Gorge.”

With my left hand, I gestured at the field of obscene plants. “Well, these are wiggles.”

Red said nothing.

“Let’s get back to the dome.”

“My ankle.” She pointed to the offending appendage.

I reached out a hand to her. “Let’s get you up.”

She grabbed on to me, and I hauled her up to one foot. She used me as support, and we hobbled to the metre-high ridge that separated the field of wiggles from the plane Gan’s dome was on.

“May I be of assistance?” the TUD unit said as it extended a hand to Red.

“Nope,” I answered, then turned to Red. “Just scramble up on your knees. I’ll push from behind.”

“But the TUD unit…” She reached a hand to the robot. It moved closer.

Before I could stop it, the TUD unit skidded on the same spot Red had. I shoved Red back out of the way as the robot cartwheeled its arms above us, desperately trying to maintain its footing. It failed and fell, landing with a crunch of metal on a patch of wiggles right next to me.

I looked at it and frowned.

“You have to help it,” Red said.

“TUD Seven, provide a damage assessment,” I said.

The robot just lay there like a pile of spare parts (which was really what it was). I kicked its side.

“You can’t do that!” Red started crawling over.

“I think the robot is broken.”

“Still, you can’t kick it.” Red gently shook its chest plate.

“It’s just a robot.”

She glared at me. Ninety percent of the time, the girl was overly timid, but occasionally, like now, she showed the resolve of a tiger. I sighed.

“I can’t help you back to the dome and help the robot. So here’s the plan.” I looked out at the horizon; it was getting light. My teeth chattered. “First, I help you to the dome, and we get a medkit to scan that ankle. Then I’ll talk to Gan, and he and I will take care of this one.” I gestured to the inert robot.

She crossed her arms. “Fine.”

Chapter 33

Norman — Ten years ago

Norman stood in line with the other inmates. The harsh overhead lights cast a sterile glow on the corridor, washing out all colour and casting everything in a stark, monotonous palette. His newly shaved head felt exposed under the relentless brightness, and he half expected to end up with a sunburn.

The door of the prison elevator slid open with a hydraulic hiss, and he stepped inside. After doing this for so long, Norman’s moments had become automatic.

A wave of nausea swept through him as the elevator began its descent. His backache intensified as he anticipated the day’s labor. The thought of another twelve-hour shift in the depths of Hamber’s Hole mine filled him with dread. Every day seemed the same, each one filled with misery, and nothing was going to change anytime soon.

As the elevator reached its destination, the doors slid open to reveal a tunnel carved into the bedrock. The air here was cooler, but it carried the weight of confinement and despair.

“Keep moving,” barked a guard, his voice echoing off the stone walls. The inmates shuffled forward in silence, a line of resigned figures trudging toward another day of toil.

Norman waited his turn, his breathing uneven and heavy, laden with the dust and damp of the underground. He watched as the others picked up their tools, the clanking of metal against metal a jarring symphony.

When it was his turn, he picked up a hammer and chisel and made his way down the dimly lit corridor to his assigned work site, each step a reminder of his loathing for the place. When he arrived at his designated chunk of the rock, he sighed and got to work.

With each swing of the hammer, a surge of resentment passed through him. The lack of proper mining equipment was maddening. The archaic method of using a hammer and chisel to extract ore had to be a cruel joke, a deliberate infliction of misery.

Within minutes, sweat beaded on his forehead. He wiped it away, cursing the heat, the dirt, the soreness that would inevitably follow, and the exhaustion that drained him of more than just physical strength.

He placed the chisel against the rock and swung the hammer with force. A small rock broke free and fell to the ground, making a sound that didn’t match the effort.

Frustration and despair swirled through Norman’s mind as he forced himself to keep working. Each swing of his hammer served as a reminder of his situation, intensifying his hatred for this wretched place.

“Phsst.”

Norman glanced sideways at the man working next to him. A chill passed over him when he saw it was Frank Evers. On the outside, Frank had been a bouncer who’d taken his duties too far. Rumour was he’d killed four people with his bare hands one night. The very thought of Frank’s capacity for brutality sent an involuntary shiver down Norman’s spine.

“What?” Norman grunted, his focus mostly on the monotonous task at hand. His arms ached with every swing, a dull, persistent pain that mirrored his mental state.

“Something’s gonna happen. Pay attention.” Frank’s voice was low and urgent.

Norman let out a weary sigh. Frank was always predicting some grand upheaval, a break from the oppressive routine of the mine. Yet nothing ever changed. “Just focus on your work,” he advised, trying to quell any unnecessary hope or fear.

“I’m telling you, today is the day,” Frank said, his tone barely above a murmur.

“And then what?” Norman asked, echoing the countless similar conversations they’d had before. “Where do you plan on going?”

“The plan’s the same. We cross over to the free miner’s side, take their elevators up, and steal a ship.” Frank spoke as if reading from a script he’d learned by heart.

Another sigh escaped Norman. He raised his hammer and struck the chisel, watching a tiny piece of ore fall to the ground. As always, his orange overalls served as a glaring reminder of his imprisonment. He averted his eyes from the fluorescent fabric and prepared for another strike.

Ten minutes later a loud crash echoed through the tunnel, far louder and more ominous than the rhythmic clatter of their mining. Sound reverberated off the walls, sending a tremor through the earth. As the noise faded, a chilling realization set in.

“Cave-in!” someone shouted in the distance.

The word seared in Norman’s mind, accompanied by a surge of adrenaline. Cave-ins were rare but deadly; the two previous incidents had claimed lives. Panic and uncertainty rippled through the miners as they paused, tools in hand, waiting for instructions or further signs of danger.

In the eerie silence following the cave-in, Norman’s senses heightened. The taste of dirt and his own sweat lingered on his lips, mingling with the damp earthiness of the mine. His earlier fatigue was forgotten in the face of potential disaster. He glanced at Frank, who looked back with wide, alert eyes. Frank’s prediction of chaos had finally proved correct.

Frank shattered the stillness. “Go!” he bellowed, discarding his tools and sprinting toward the elevator. The other inmates followed, their shouts and cries echoing through the tunnel as they stampeded for the exit. Their desperation was palpable, a living wave of panic and hope.

Norman pressed himself against the rock wall to stay out of the way. As the inmates sprinted past, a rush of air kicked up dust in their wake. The corridor emptied in seconds, the sound of fleeing footsteps fading into the distance.

Alone in the stillness, Norman released a shuddering breath. Then the earlier crash resonated in his mind.

“The cave-in,” he said to himself. “Someone could be trapped.”

He started walking toward the source of the sound, his steps cautious—as if that would stop more rocks from falling. Portable lights drilled into the rock above provided sparse illumination, casting long shadows that danced on the walls.

Norman picked up an abandoned headlamp and strapped it on, a small beacon in the gloom. Whatever the fleeing inmates did next could trigger a power cut, plunging the mine into darkness, and Norman wanted to ensure he could find his way out.

Rounding the corner, he found the site of the cave-in. A section of the ceiling had collapsed, creating a jagged maw in the rock. Beyond, the tunnel had been plunged into darkness. It was a minor cave-in but still big enough to hurt someone.

“Hello?” he called out.

“Over here” came a faint response.

Norman switched on his headlamp and moved forward, the beam cutting through the darkness. He swept the light from side to side until it fell on two figures—one in orange huddled against the wall and another in a guard’s uniform.

“Are you stuck?” he asked, navigating the debris-strewn ground.

The huddled figure looked up with wide, fearful eyes. Beside him, the guard groaned in pain, his leg pinned beneath a large rock.

“We have to help him,” the inmate said.

Up close, Norman saw past the neon orange outfit and froze. He recognized the inmate’s face. It was Haoyu Long, the man Norman had stolen from, the man who’d started Norman’s criminal path. The two of them were bound together and not in a good way. It would have been better if they’d never crossed paths. Norman swallowed and wiped his hands down the sides of his jumpsuit.

“This is my first shift with your crew,” Haoyu continued, his slight build ill-suited for the laborious work of the mines.

Norman’s gaze was unwavering. “The others are trying to escape.”

“But not you,” Haoyu said.

Norman slowly nodded. Surely Haoyu recognized him. “But not me.”

“Then let’s help this man.” Haoyu pointed at the moaning guard.

While trying not to think about the unstable ceiling, Norman circled the rock that trapped the guard’s leg. “Do you think we can lift it?”

Haoyu stood and frowned. “It’ll take two of us, and we’ll be able to get it up only a little bit.” He looked at the guard. “You’ll have to slide out. Do you think you can do that?”

The guard’s wide eyes darted between Norman and Haoyu, unsure if they were attempting to deceive him. Then he nodded.

“Okay.” Norman crouched and put both hands on the rock. Wiping his palm on his jumpsuit, Haoyu mirrored the action on the other side. “On three.”

Haoyu nodded.

“One…two…three.”

Norman and Haoyu lifted the rock. The guard shimmied out from underneath just before something in Norman’s back popped. He lost his grip, and Haoyu couldn’t take the lopsided weight alone. The rock fell to the ground with a thump. The guard scrambled to his feet using the rock as support.

As the three of them stood in silence, the sound of gunfire sounded in the direction Norman had come. Shouting and screams followed.

The guard pulled his phaser from his holster. He pointed it at Norman, then at Haoyu, then back to Norman. “Are you two going to escape?”

Norman laughed, and Haoyu joined in. The sound of their laughter echoed off the cavern walls.

With a sigh, Norman sat on the ground and leaned against the wall. “Like I told Fred earlier, today is not the day.” He let his head tip back and rest on the rock. A dry scent lingered, resembling rot but milder. “My back hurts way too much for a daring escape.”

Haoyu’s knees crackled as he squatted beside Norman. Awkwardly, he shifted into a sitting position. “Besides, the others won’t get away.”

“True.” Norman made eye contact with the guard.

The guard was young, barely out of his teens. He held his blaster pointed at Norman and Haoyu, but his hands shook, betraying his fear.

“Do you have a radio?” Norman asked.

The guard nodded. “You two aren’t going to try anything funny, are you?”

“I don’t have a funny bone in me,” Norman said in a flat tone.

Beside him, Haoyu laughed.

The guard set down his blaster and pulled a comms unit out of his vest. He made his call in a barely audible whisper, his voice so low Norman couldn’t discern his words.

Finally, the guard finished his call and tucked the radio in his vest. He looked at Norman and Haoyu with an unreadable expression. “Help is coming.”

After his shift, Norman took a luxuriously long shower. He didn’t have to worry about any guards interrupting him; word had already spread about how he’d helped save one of them.

As he adjusted the temperature dial, the steamy heat embraced him. He stood under the cascading water, adjusting it to just the right level. The hot water cascading over his sore muscles was therapeutic, cleansing both the grime and stresses of the day.

He hummed an old tune, a habit he’d picked up to calm his nerves, lost in the water’s rhythm. The steam fogged up the tiny shower room, creating a world removed from the harsh realities of prison life. It was only when he noticed his skin beginning to prune that he turned off the water.

Dressed in a fresh neon orange jumpsuit, Norman returned to the barracks, where rows of beds were lined up in neat, sterile lines.

“Butterworth,” a voice called out, breaking the silence.

Norman turned toward the sound, finding a stern-looking guard with a visible black eye at the door. “The warden wants to see you.”

Norman nodded. “Sure.” He adjusted the zipper on his jumpsuit and followed the guard, wondering what this unexpected summons could mean.

He found Haoyu already in the warden’s office. They stood side by side before the warden’s imposing desk. The office was sparse except for a few chairs, a filing cabinet, and a wall of surveillance monitors.

“Are those the two?” The warden’s voice was directed at someone behind them.

Turning, Norman saw the young guard they had saved, now on crutches, with his leg in a cast. The guard nodded.

The warden cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on Norman and Haoyu. “I understand you two chose to assist one of my guards rather than escape,” she began, her tone measured.

She paused, assessing their reactions. “For this act of kindness, I am willing to give you both another chance.”

Norman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was this really happening? A flicker of hope ignited within him.

The warden continued, “I’ve made arrangements for your transfer. You’ll still serve your sentences but under more favourable conditions.”

Haoyu’s voice was soft, tinged with disbelief and relief, when he asked, “Really?”

The warden nodded.

Norman stepped forward, extending his hand to the warden in a gesture of gratitude. She accepted it, her handshake firm and devoid of judgement. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, a respectful nod accompanying his words.

As they shook, a weight lifted off Norman’s shoulders. He was finally leaving this place, this chapter of his life closing to make way for something new, something better. The thought brought him a long-awaited sense of relief.

Chapter 34

Darla — Present day

As much as I hated leaving Gan and Wiggle Gorge so soon, Red and I had a ferry to catch. Gan’s tranquil homestead and calm company had offered a much-needed respite, a place where my troubles seemed to shrink and become more manageable. And I couldn’t deny it: the man was a culinary genius. His meals alone were enough reason to come back.

Saying goodbye proved to be more difficult than I expected. Despite my usual aversion to physical contact, I found myself wrapped in a round of hugs with Gan. I’ll never admit it, but a tear formed as we drove away.

Red and I set off for what I hoped was the last phase of our partnership. (The girl was driving me nuts.) The ferry ride turned out to be smooth and unremarkable. So yeah, extra boring. As usual, I scanned everyone I encountered with my goggles. The tech usually picked up any potential threats, but this time they showed nothing amiss. Every passenger and crew member seemed just as they should.

Still, I couldn’t rid myself of the sensation of being watched. Despite the reassurance from the goggles (they could have been hacked, after all), doubt lingered in the back of my mind. I kept a vigilant eye on our surroundings, checking faces and analyzing body language.

For now it appeared we were safe. However, in my world, safety often proved to be nothing more than an illusion, a temporary break before the next storm struck, and I didn’t doubt a storm was brewing—because one always was.

As I gazed out the ferry window, I let the swirling yellow clouds of New Venus mesmerize me. Below them lay Seven Soaring Swans, a city renowned for its ancient treasures and opulent lifestyle. I itched to veer off course and delve into the Island of Curiosities, to lose myself among the rare artifacts and relics that filled the auction houses.

Red’s sigh pulled me back from my daydream. I turned to her, one eyebrow arched.

She offered a shrug, a hint of resignation in her posture. “Classes start next week,” she said, her voice tinged with anticipation and concern.

“I assume we’ll have rescued your dad long before then,” I said, surprised at my encouraging tone. Was it the university in Seven Soaring Swans she had a scholarship to? I struggled to recall the details. Probably because I didn’t care.

The automated announcement of our impending arrival at the spaceport interrupted my thoughts. I stood. It was time to prepare for whatever we faced next.

“I gotta change.” I headed to the washroom.

I locked the door behind me and focused on my wrist console. With a few swipes, I activated the nanites in my clothing, transforming my outfit into a stylish mauve pantsuit. The fabric shifted and morphed, adapting to my new specifications.

I examined myself in the mirror. The suit exuded sharpness and sophistication, a stark contrast to my typical attire. It would help me blend in with the affluent crowds of New Venus. My backpack, however, remained a sore spot. Ragged and worn (because it was made of old-school canvas), it contrasted starkly with my polished appearance. I hoped it wouldn’t draw too much attention or suspicion, because I sure as hell wasn’t leaving it behind.

Stepping out of the washroom, I was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. We stood on the precipice of a world of wealth and intrigue, and I would navigate it with success. Red was counting on me, and I wasn’t about to let her down. We’d get on her friend’s shuttle, pick up her dad, then I’d make time to indulge my desire to see the antiquities available in the city below.

“So where are we picking up that shuttle?” I asked Red as I queued to enter the spaceport.

That’s when I realized how rough around the edges Red looked. Although handmade clothing was all the rage, worn-out clothing was not, especially in this place. Adding to the problem, one knee of her pants had a rip, exposing a skinned knee that had probably happened at Wiggle Gorge. All around us, people stared as they got ready to disembark. Why hadn’t I noticed before how disheveled she was?

“Shuttle bay seventy-one,” she said as we stepped off the ferry.

The sleek station made Red look even more out of place.

“I can’t take you in ripped clothing.” New Venus didn’t have fashion police, but the regular police would profile the girl, and we didn’t need law enforcement taking an interest in us.

Red spun and locked me in a heated gaze, displaying more spunk than usual. (There wasn’t even a stupid robot to rescue.) “This is all I have,” she said through gritted teeth.

I nodded and did my best to sound nonjudgemental. “I know it’s not trendy, but I recommend nanite clothing. Then you need only one outfit.”

She slouched, her spunk gone. “Fine, I’ll dress fancier, but I don’t have the credits to buy anything.”

I almost make a snarky reply before noticing the girl was near tears. Red was the one who’d hired me, yet so far I’d had to foot the bill for our food, accommodations, and even transportation. She didn’t seem like she had it in her to be scamming me, which meant she was either broke or a really good actor.

“I’ll get you the clothes. Just don’t stiff me in the end.” I pointed at her. “If you betray me, I’ll hunt you down.”

Red bit her lower lip and said nothing. If she broke into tears, I had no idea what I’d do.

Across the way, a story advertised a utility clothing shop. (By ‘utility,’ I meant the kind of clothing the rich people in the city below would wear for an alien world safari, not the stuff the person maintaining the ship’s engines wore.) I headed straight there with Red in my wake. In the back corner, deeply discounted, I found a bucket of nanite clothing in the correct volume and handed it to Red. “That should do.”

“What should it be?” Red scrolled through the preprogrammed options on her datapad. Her finger hovered above an outfit that resembled field gear.

“Pick something fancy.” I reached over and swiped her screen to some more appropriate options. “We need to look like we belong here.”

Red settled on a forest-green jumpsuit and went to put it on. The sheen on the fabric seemed almost metallic—in an extra gaudy way. That, combined with her over-the-top hair colour, made her look more like old Christmas than the trees of Delve’s Landing. But I didn’t complain. (I sure wanted to, but I didn’t.)

“Now we fit in, let’s get this over with.” Back on the main concourse, I turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Shuttle bay seventy-one?”

“Yeah.”

An alert flashed in my augmented vision. The goggles identified two people from the space elevator on that backwater planet—two who belonged to the group I’d tagged as suspicious. (I know; I tagged almost everyone as suspicious.) I angled away from them and activated a tiny virtual screen to watch behind my back. Confirming my suspicions, the man and woman pointed at me and started heading in my direction.

I clenched my jaw. “Crap.”

“What?” Red swivelled her head around.

“We’ve got a tail. They’re probably after me. Crap!” My mind raced. Were they bounty hunters? Did my fake death not fool anyone?

“What do we do?” Red stared at me with wide eyes.

“I’ll meet you at the shuttle.” Without waiting for her response, I marched down the middle of the concourse. My goggles’ backward view showed me the two following me, ignoring Red. So they were after me, just as I’d suspected. (Red was a nobody after all.)

I picked up the pace while scrolling through the outfits my nanite suit could transform into. I quickly found what I wanted, but I needed somewhere to change.

After making a sharp turn, I went into a restaurant.

“May I help you?” the maître d’ asked politely, confirming my intuition to dress up. As much as I hated it, wearing fancy pants paid off here.

“May I use your washroom?” I smiled in a way I hoped was pleasant, not grim.

“It’s in the back, ma’am.” He pointed to a hallway at the back leading out of the restaurant. That would do.

While trying to channel every ounce of grace I had, I wove through the tables. At the mouth of the hallway, I checked my rear camera. I didn’t see either of my tails. No doubt they’d taken up posts watching the main entrance. If they were smart (and that might be the case), one would be watching any back door too.

I almost smiled as I followed the hallway. It forked. The kitchen entrance was visible to the left. I turned the other way and went to the nearest washroom. I locked myself in and stripped out of my clothes. With a couple of tweaks to the nanite software, I set it to become my new outfit. My sleek pants suit turned into a white chef’s uniform. After putting it on, I left the washroom.

Pulling myself tall, I marched into the kitchen like I belonged. Frying garlic and onion aromas filled the air, making my mouth water.

This kitchen was the kind where people cooked food from scratch without robot assistance. (Even Gan accepted robot help in the kitchen; only fools didn’t.) The floor was shiny, like polished glass, and my boots clicked as I walked.

All the cooks were hard at work manipulating fresh produce. No one questioned my presence as I wove my way around the workstations to a door on the other side.

“Stop!”

I froze and slowly turned.

It was the head chef who’d spoken, his eyes narrowing. “You cannot wear that backpack in here. It’s unsanitary.”

All work stopped, and everyone’s heads spun my way. Heat rose in my cheeks. I briefly locked eyes with the head chef before continuing toward the door. I knocked a cutting board full of perfectly chopped vegetables, causing it to cascade to the ground. Disks of carrot rolled along the ground, keeping pace with me.

On the other side was the storeroom. I grabbed an empty produce crate and walked into the utility corridor. I didn’t see either of my tails. Placing the crate down, I let out a sigh of relief before finding my way back to the main concourse. I let my goggles scan everyone, but they didn’t pick up the tails. The best I could hope for was that I’d fooled them.

But Lady Luck wasn’t smiling at me. Five minutes later my goggles picked up my tail, and I scooted behind a massive potted plant, a tree fern or some sort of palm; how would I know? Plants were never my thing, and irrelevant, except for the making-oxygen part.

I peered around, and sure enough the two figures who had been trailing me now sat at a wrought-iron patio table in front of another restaurant. A warm breeze of freshly filtered air blew wisps of their conversation my way as they clinked glasses brimming with ruby red wine. The man leaned forward, his lips brushing her cheek in a tender kiss.

“Well, shit…” My words trailed off. The intensity of their interaction suggested they probably had never been following me. Gan might have been right: maybe I was a bit paranoid. And now I looked like a fool in a fake chef’s outfit.

I couldn’t change without taking it off (which wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted to draw to myself), but I could change the colour. With a flick of my gaze in the goggles, I made my clothes turn a dark brown.

I let out a long sigh and resumed walking. As I passed the pair on the patio, neither so much as glanced my way. Maybe my effort to fake my death had been believed. Maybe, just maybe, I was truly off Long Enterprises’ radar.

A scrolling newsfeed on an overhead screen caught my attention. The Garden Princess, the ship that had been my home seventeen years ago, had collided with the cargo ship Shimmer, the one I’d been on only a few days ago. I let out a low whistle as I watched footage of the event.

The two ships had collided right above a rocky anchor world, raining it with debris. One of the rescue ships followed the forward section of the Garden Princess’s hull as it spun slowly in its final descent. The image zoomed in until I could make out the plush carpets that covered the passenger decks. I pictured myself walking down those halls. I couldn’t believe the ship was gone.

“Focus,” I said and forced myself to turn away from the images. I’d left that ship years ago; I didn’t need to care. I just needed to fulfill my commitment to Red, and she would lead me to the map. What could go wrong?

I stepped into shuttle bay seventy-one and stopped dead in my tracks. There, parked in the middle of the bay, sat a sleek shuttle. Somehow it had been allowed to dock even though it didn’t have identification numbers on its hull. A shiver wove up my spine, and my mouth went dry.

I’d seen that shuttle before—seventeen years before, to be exact. It (or, more likely, one just like it) had brought Vi to Delve’s Landing. It was the last time I’d set eyes on her.

“Long Enterprises,” I said in a low tone as a stream of questions filled my mind and soured my mood. What kind of connection did Red have to Long Enterprises? Had I been played? Was Red pulling me into some sort of trap?

“There you are,” Red said from the side, the green of her pants suit glittering under the bright lights. She smiled as she came my way.

My heart raced. It felt like the jaws of a trap were closing around me. “What’s going on?”

Then a man stepped out behind Red. His face was familiar, but my goggles didn’t identify him. He was about her height, compact, with short hair more grey than black. He moved with a grace I rarely saw.

He met my gaze and smiled like we knew each other. “Darla, you made it.”

“You,” I said as it hit me—the man we stole from all those years ago on the Garden Princess. It was impossible for any of this to be a coincidence—and my time for escape was running out. I turned and fled the shuttle bay. It had been a trap all along.

Red and the man called out behind me, but I didn’t turn or slow. The sole thing on my mind was making a quick getaway before it was too late.

Chapter 35

Darla — Nineteen years ago

Vi stood in the doorway and smiled. “This is beautiful,” she said with a note of awe.

The forward lounge on the Garden Princess was undergoing a refit, making it out of bounds to passengers for this leg of the cruise and leaving Darla with a narrow window to create a romantic evening. What was more romantic than dinner amid a field of stars?

Darla grinned, her earlier nervousness beginning to abate. This was the most effort she had ever put into a date. Romance wasn’t something that came easy to her, but Vi was worth it. “We have the place to ourselves.”

The lights were set to their lowest setting, allowing the view outside to dominate, and dominate it did. An uninterrupted field of stars stretched out before them, each one a shining pinprick of brilliance against the infinite inky black. Beside her Vi sighed, then squeezed Darla’s hand.

“I have wine.” From her backpack, Darla pulled out a bottle of the best red wine she could afford.

“This is perfect.” Vi grabbed two wineglasses from the bar. “Where should we sit?”

“In the VIP section, of course.” Darla gestured to the most comfortable spot in the lounge.

Vi laughed, the sound melodious and infectious. “And I thought we were going to have cafeteria food in our cabin again.”

“Come, sit.” Darla put a hand on the base of Vi’s back and guided her to the seating.

“This”—Vi gestured to the view—“is fantastic.”

“I didn’t forget our one-year anniversary, and cafeteria food wouldn’t do. I begged Charles to make us something special.” Darla smiled. She opened a food container, exposing a tray of the ship’s best cheeses, chutneys, and crackers.

“Oooooo.” Vi put a hand over her mouth, and her eyes sparkled. Vi loved her cheese. Darla now owed Charles, the head chef of the fanciest restaurant onboard, a favour, but the expression on Vi’s face made it worthwhile.

“Grab a seat and dig in.”

Vi chose an overstuffed sofa facing the windows. Its velvet surface silently accepted her weight. Darla sat beside her and set the food on the low table in front of them. She opened the wine and poured two generous helpings.

As they sipped wine, Vi’s gaze turned reflective. “I often think about the day we met,” she said. “You were so gruff with me.”

Darla sighed. “I’ve apologized a million times for that.”

“Oh, I know. And your rough edges are cute.”

Darla snorted.

“Anyway, that’s why I invited you to dinner that night.” Vi leaned into Darla until their shoulders touched.

“I was surprised you took a position on this ship so soon after we met.” Darla sipped her wine.

Vi shrugged. “There was an opening here, and I was curious about you.”

“I’m glad it worked out.” Darla leaned forward and put a slice of cheese on a cracker. She held it out to Vi. “Charles packed us his fanciest nibblies.”

“It looks fantastic.” Vi ate the cheese, then took a handful of crackers and sat back against the sofa. She gazed out into space—literally.

Darla leaned back too, enjoying Vi’s warmth more than the view.

“Do you ever wonder what’s out there?” Vi asked after a moment.

Darla shrugged. “I have access to the latest nav data. I know what’s out there.”

“But you don’t know where Old Earth is.”

“No, no one does,” Darla said.

Vi gestured to the window. “But it’s out there somewhere.”

“I guess it has to be.” Darla sipped from her glass.

“It’s so strange the location of Old Earth was purged from all twelve generation ships’ nav data.” Vi leaned forward and looked Darla in the eye. “And how is it possible no one on those ships kept their own record of Old Earth’s location?”

“It does seem strange.” Darla didn’t dare admit she’d never put much thought into the problem. Humans had been living in this cluster of worlds for over two hundred years, and they seemed to have everything they needed—including the human issues they’d brought with them.

“I heard a rumour that the Protectorate is keeping maps to Old Earth in its top-secret archive,” Vi said. It wasn’t the first time she’d delved into conspiracy theories.

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” Darla grabbed a handful of spicy roasted nuts.

“I found another source of a map to Old Earth,” Vi said in a low voice.

“Hmm.” Darla sensed Vi was going to tell her all about it, and that was okay.

“A navigator on one of the generation ships managed to save a copy of their course.”

“Do you have any information on this navigator?” Darla asked.

Vi smiled. “I’ve been digging for information.”

“DeepNet again?”

Vi shrugged. “I found his name—Hakkun Lee. He was on Generation Ship 12, the last one to leave Earth.”

“That means he lived over seven hundred years ago.”

“I know. But maybe there’s more to find out about him.” Vi helped herself to a slab of blue cheese.

“If you found this hypothetical map, then what?”

Vi grinned. “I’d organize an expedition to Earth, of course.”

“I don’t mean to be a downer, but the trip would take more than five hundred years,” Darla said.

“I’m sure we’d figure out a way to get there faster.” Vi gestured to the starfield. “We have the gates that connect our inhabited worlds. They were made somehow.”

“By a long-lost alien civilization that disappeared a millennia ago,” Darla pointed out.

“I’m aware we can’t just ask them, but surely someone is figuring out how to make gates.”

“I’m sure.” Darla smiled.

“Imagine returning to Earth!” Vi let out a long exhale. “Just imagine.”

Darla stared at the stars, and for the first time she wondered where Earth was.

Chapter 36

Darla — Present day

My stomach dropped as I realized Red had duped me. That innocent-looking girl had wormed her way into my trust, fooling me and making me think her naivety was genuine. But now she had revealed her true allegiances—she had been working with Long Enterprises all along.

Cheeks burning, I stalked away, trying to avoid the stares of passersby who’d witnessed my flight. All I wanted to do was curl up in a hidden corner and scroll through the antiques currently available. But I couldn’t do that now. I’d sacrificed a hell of a lot on a hope of getting my hands on a bloody star chart back to Old Earth. I almost stomped my feet (but didn’t because I was in public, and I’m not a stinkin’ toddler).

It wasn’t fair. How could I have been so easily deceived? My heart ached with a mix of sadness and rage as I tried to make sense of what had happened. A couple of passersby stared at me before quickly looking away and giving me a wide berth as they passed.

“Bloody hell, get a grip on yourself,” I muttered as the crowd thinned. “How are you going to get away?”

Keeping my voice low, I pretended to engage in a virtual conversation, because I always thought best when talking aloud. (I was well aware that made me sound a touch crazy.) To feel slightly less crazy, I activated my virtual Hank the Hippo. He looked up at me with his liquid brown eyes as if he understood all my woes. Hank would never let me down.

“Step one—don’t draw attention to yourself.”

I ducked into a thrift shop off the side of the main concourse. Anything this close to Seven Soaring Swans was bound to be overpriced, but I had plenty of credits and wanted a change. My current state of minimalism wasn’t working for me.

It wasn’t even dusty in the shop, leaving me disappointed, but at least the air held a hint of old books. The chances of finding any treasures here were unlikely. But the shop contained a maze of shelves piled with stuff, and treasures weren’t what I needed right now. I meandered through the aisles, my eyes skimming over everything on offer.

A robotic voice startled me. “May I help you?” The voice sounded oddly flat and monotone yet with a peculiar crack that hinted at infrequent use.

I glanced its way and snorted. “You’re a TUD unit,” I said, unable to hide my disdain for the ‘totally useless device.’

“Correct, I am TUD-671.” The robot jerked slightly as it raised a hand and pointed at me. Its flat plate of a face seemed to assess if I intended to steal something. “May I assist you in finding something?”

All TUD units stood taller than me, yet this one seemed to slouch. It had clearly seen better days. Someone had covered the military black matte coat with poor-quality pale blue paint, and now it was chipping off in weird ways. A newer, incongruous orange stripe circled its torso, adding to its patchwork appearance.

I smiled my sweetest smile. “Let’s start with this.” I placed a shiny black suitcase large enough to fit my backpack on the counter. “And this!” I held up an incandescent pink hat that would have raised the eyebrows of anyone who knew me well.

“Will that be all?” the robot asked. I could have sworn it looked down at me with a hint of robotic disdain. I ground my teeth together.

“I’ll need a few more things.”

I spotted a few copies of the newly reborn Hank the Hippo series buried under a pile of comics depicting an octopus-like alien named Click and a sweet little girl—Theo65’s ambitious endeavour. I added all the comics to my collection. The shop didn’t seem to hold any weapons, which was fine with me because I wasn’t keen on carrying one (and I certainly wasn’t going to inquire about that kind of thing).

“Now are you done?” the robot asked.

“Yes.” I swiped my wristband over the terminal to pay. “And I’d like to change in your back room.”

“Fine.” It moved aside and gestured to the door.

Without hesitating I went in. The back room was clearly meant for storage, and when I stepped inside, the scent seemed right for a thrift shop, a musty, dusty smell that had always led me to the good stuff. I sighed.

“Step two—change how you look.”

I stripped out of my nanite suit, and for a second time in less than an hour, I changed its form. This time I chose an elegant black dress, nothing revealing (as I wasn’t into revealing anything to strangers), and I made sure to include pockets (because of course I needed pockets; only a fool would go without).

Then I slipped on the dress. It looked ridiculous with my clunky books. With a sigh I opened the door.

“Hey, TUD-123. Do you have any shoes?”

“It’s TUD-671, and this is not a fashion salon,” it responded in its monotonous voice.

I pursed my lips—a pointless gesture when dealing with a robot. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But do you have any shoes?”

“Affirmative. I’ll be back in a moment.” Someone had added salty seasoning to that robot’s code, and a sarcastic robot was just my thing. This was the first old TUD unit I didn’t immediately want to throw away. (Hopefully Gan had done that to his foolish TUD unit.)

TUD-671 shuffled off in search of footwear and returned a few minutes later. “There are three options.” It handed me three boxes.

The first held a pair of hand-sewn infant booties. I handed them back. The second box contained a newer version of my boots. I handed that back too. The third box said, “Any shoe you need”—which seemed promising. I opened it to find a pool of nanites on the bottom.

“My apologies,” the proprietor said as it reached to take the box back.

“No.” I pulled it toward myself. “I’ll take them.”

“Fine. I’ll add them to your bill.” It lurked in the doorway.

I smiled (I know—wasted on a bloody robot). “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Don’t linger,” it said and left.

As soon as I was alone, I connected my wristband to the shoes. It took only a moment to find the software the nanites needed and reform them into impractical, tall, extra-shiny boots (no heel of course, because I needed to be ready for action—and I’m already taller than almost everybody). I pulled them on.

After shoving my backpack and old boots into the suitcase, I stood up straight and smoothed down the garment (even though nanite wear never wrinkled). With a sigh I removed my goggles and stashed them in my pocket, then I put on the ridiculous pink hat. I was ready to go. After paying for the boots, I walked out of the shop, towing my suitcase.

I stopped a few paces from the shop’s door. The concourse was full of strangers—people moving this way and that, people I may have seen before, but no algorithm was going to track that many targets for me. My palms grew clammy, and my grip slipped on the suitcase.

“Step three—act like you mean it.” I pulled myself up tall again and started walking—to where, I had no idea.

After ten minutes in my new nanite boots, my feet were killing me. They felt like a thousand pinpricks against my feet. With every step, the soles shifted and mutated in ways I hadn’t anticipated. As pain shot up my legs, I realized why someone had discarded the damn boots—they glitched in weird, uncomfortable ways. I gritted my teeth and carried on.

I stopped under a sign that said, “Mr. Hu’s Quality Shuttles—Sales and Service.”

A wave of regret over the deliberate crash of my previous shuttle hit me. Without it I had less control over my movements. A new shuttle would give me options. I could go wherever I wanted, start a new life.

I sighed. Where would I go? What kind of new life did I want? Had I made a mistake?

My head was spinning with so many options and so many questions. Mr. Hu’s shop seemed like the best place to start my search for whatever I was searching for.

“Step four—just keep going.”

With a clenched jaw, I entered the shuttle shop. It was a hangar, really, or maybe a showroom. At the very least, the floor was shinier than any I’d seen in a hangar, the Garden Princess’s included.

“Hello there.”

I turned to find a middle-aged man with black hair standing behind me.

“Oh!” I put my free hand over my heart.

“Sorry to startle you.” He smiled, exposing impressively white teeth. “I’m Mr. Hu. You must be looking for a new shuttle?”

“A used shuttle would do just fine.” I smiled back. “Something that already has the kinks worked out.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes studying me closely. “Are you looking for something gate rated?”

“Yes, and big enough I can live aboard for short periods,” I said. I’d probably end up living onboard for months, but he didn’t need to know that.

“So with a kitchen, bunk, and washroom?”

“But nothing fancy.” I smiled again, hoping that showing my teeth didn’t give the impression of a bear trying to keep others away. I towered over Mr. Hu, my ridiculous hat only adding to the effect.

Mr. Hu put a hand under his chin and turned to the row of shuttles. At first glance they all seemed too fancy. The one closest was cherry red, and I could see the finely finished interior through the bulbous windows on each side—too high-brow for me. Beside it was an even bigger shuttle, which I suspected was even fancier inside.

“I might have something that will work. Come with me.” Mr. Hu started walking toward a large door in the hangar wall. I followed, wincing with each step.

In the next hangar over, the shuttles seemed much more utilitarian. “These are looking better,” I said as we passed a perfectly acceptable model.

“What I want to show you is down here.” Mr. Hu led me to the end of the row and gestured to a shuttle with both hands.

I looked at it and snorted. The stubby hull looked like it had been sandblasted in places, revealing many layers of colourful paint. A big dent marred the nose cone, and the entire ship was on a slight angle because of wonky landing gear.

“What do you think?”

I took a pace forward and put my hand on the shuttle’s bulbous nose. What I was about to do next was probably foolish. I turned to Mr. Hu.

“I’ll take it.”

Chapter 37

Darla — Present day

An hour later I had freed my feet from the shitty nanite footwear (I’d blown the damn things out the airlock) and was back in my comfortable, proper boots. I exhaled deeply as I pulled my goggles onto my head.

“This is so much better,” I said to the empty cockpit.

As soon as Mr. Hu transferred legal ownership of my new shuttle, I took off. I was flying away from the New Venus spaceport. That glimmering and ostentatious nightmare was now in my rearview. Things were looking up.

The new-to-me shuttle smelled exactly right—the perfect combination of lemon cleaner and engine coolant. There was no air of pretentiousness surrounding it, and I had been pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of the interior. It may have been secondhand and a bit dinged up, but I knew it was the perfect vessel to get me wherever I wanted to go, and if it didn’t, it was only me who would pay.

Mr. Hu maintained high standards, even on his heavily discounted, beat-up old shuttles. He’d thrown in six months of emergency rations plus a full load of water and fuel. I gave his operation two thumbs-up.

Behind the cockpit a kitchenette was squeezed beside a table with banquet seating. On the port side was a sleeping area with two built-in bunk beds. Farther back was a proper shower with water—something I would have paid more for. What had once been a lab filled the compartment forward of the engine room and airlock. It wasn’t big or fancy, but this shuttle would do fine.

There were a few things I needed to sort out. First, the bright orange trim next to the mossy green walls shocked my system. Why would someone willingly pair those two colours? The paint on the walls had chipped away in sheets, exposing the black undercoat. Whoever had painted this ship must have been in a rush to finish it. As soon as I docked at a spaceport more my speed, I planned on repainting the interior.

I let out a long exhale as I stared out the front window at New Venus below. The swirling masses of golden-edged clouds reminded me of a marble I’d had as a kid. Somehow that thought led to thoughts of Red and how she’d betrayed me. That girl was a waste of oxygen. I should have abandoned her when we met on that awful planet.

“Step four—just keep going,” I said to myself.

Ten minutes later I placed a call to Theo65. A moment later their grey alien avatar appeared in the copilot’s seat. Despite the surrealness of conversing with a holographic alien, Theo65’s presence proved oddly comforting. They were one of my oldest friends, after all.

“This is nice,” they said with a genuine smile, but then Theo65 enjoyed the oddest things.

“It works for me,” I replied.

Theo65’s next words sent a wave of apprehension through me. “I have a message for you.”

My heart sank. “From Red?”

Theo65 shrugged, making their alien avatar seem very, very human.

I looked away and gritted my teeth. “Do we really need to listen to it?” I asked, half hoping Theo65 would say no. Of course, they were the one who’d gotten me this job in the first place.

Theo65 seemed to consider my reluctance. “It won’t hurt to listen.”

I let out a snort, my usual defence mechanism. “Listening isn’t my strength.”

“I’ve noticed.”

A heavy silence hung between us. Did they just insult me? Should I take offence? Finally I relented. My curiosity outweighed my internal debate about how insulted I should be.

“Fine, play the message.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Red had better have a good explanation for herself.”

A head appeared above the dashboard, but it wasn’t Red’s. It was the Long family member she’d been working with. I inhaled so sharply it sounded like a hiss.

“Hi, Darla,” he said in a calm tone. “From your reaction I can assume you remember me—and not fondly. I’m sorry for that, and I didn’t mean to startle you. In case you don’t remember my name, I’m Haoyu Long, the one you stole from all those years ago on the Garden Princess.”

He paused as though waiting for me to catch up, causing me to hate him more. How dare he think I was some sort of simpleton! I reached forward to turn off his face.

“Please don’t think I harbour any hard feelings about the theft. I made peace with it as the years passed. And I realize the real villain was my older sister, who set me up.”

I frowned and dropped my hands to my lap. I’d thought the Long family was solid in their devotion to each other (and to crime—they were still solid in committing crimes, including murder).

“Red and I are collaborating to correct one of the injustices that occurred that day.”

He paused again, and I nearly turned off the message. I wanted to shout, “Spit it out!”—but that would be pointless as it was a recorded message.

“An old friend of mine was accused of a murder he didn’t commit—”

With a slap I shut down all comms, and both Theo65 and the message vanished. In that moment the vast emptiness of space became my only companion, and voids don’t manipulate by bringing up past shit. The view of New Venus that filled the lower half of my front window suddenly seemed sinister.

“Where should I go?” I asked no one. Then I closed my eyes and let my head rest on the chair. “Step five—have a plan.” I had no plan.

With a huff I stalked to the kitchen. I opened and closed cupboards at random. They were all empty. I couldn’t even make a coffee—hell, I couldn’t even get a cup of water, as I didn’t have any dishes. Sure, I had months’ worth of emergency rations, but no one willingly ate those.

I sank into the banquet seating and sighed. The upholstery was old and covered in fabric that seemed to have come from some ancient nursery. It featured a menagerie of Old Earth animals, from bears to lions and cows. I kept looking until I found a hippo.

“Now what?” I asked the hippo. As expected, it didn’t answer. I sighed. “Computer, continue playback of the last message.”

Haoyu’s serene face appeared above the table.

“My friend,” he continued. “Norman Butterworth was one of your coconspirators. Since our incarceration, he and I have become friends. Now I have regained my freedom, I hope you will help me give him his. You were there that day. All you need to do is tell the authorities what you saw.” The head vanished. The message was over.

I swallowed. One of my greatest regrets was letting Norman go to prison for a murder he didn’t commit. Yeah, he was an arrogant putz, but he didn’t deserve what came his way. But over the past seventeen years, I’d been too much of a coward to come forward. I was the only witness who was not part of the ship’s security force.

Now his friend had a way to right that wrong. I hadn’t expected this turn of events. “Shit.”

With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes. The gravity of my actions and the consequences they carried weighed heavy on my conscience. After taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes. There was only one thing to do.

“Computer, call Theo65.”

A moment later Theo65 appeared beside me, smiling like a smug bastard. “That was quite the hissy fit.”

I snorted. “You pulled a fast one on me.”

They shrugged.

I frowned. “The plan all along was to get me to testify on Norman’s behalf.”

“You’ve been carrying that burden for a long time,” Theo65 said. “It’s time to let it go.”

“I’ll end up in jail.” I snorted again. “Hell, I deserved to be in jail all along.”

“You’ve been in a jail of your own creation.”

A long silence stretched out between us. Then Theo65 shifted in their seat, putting their spindly elbows on the table. “I’ve done a thorough search of all law enforcement databases. There is no warrant for your arrest.”

“If I walk in there and confess to a crime, they will arrest me,” I said.

“That’s the thing. There’s no reported crime. The Protectorate buried any record of the missing items, and the management of the Garden Princess didn’t report any issue with you. They just terminated your contract. Long Enterprises will never use official channels for its dealings. You’ll walk free.”

I stood. “Are Haoyu and Red on their way to Vander’s Edge?”

“Affirmative.”

For five minutes I paced back and forth the length of the ship, my former resolve waffling. No one would stop me if I just kept going. I stopped at the airlock door. Through the round window, a gleaming field of stars winked at me.

Theo65 was right (like they typically were). I could keep running, but I would never escape my cowardice from that day. I could turn and face it. No, I would turn and face it.

Step six—face your fears. I returned to Theo65’s avatar.

“Tell them I’m coming, but first I should fill my cupboards. I need a bloody coffee. Or maybe something stronger.”

Without talking to them any further, I returned to the cockpit and set a return course for that bloody spaceport.

Chapter 38

Darla — Present day

A couple of hours later, I was on my way again, except this time I had coffee and snacks (along with a fully stocked pantry and an expected quantity of dishes). I set a course for Vander’s Edge, one orbit closer to the system’s sun than New Venus.

Vander’s Edge had none of the charm of New Venus. It was a rocky world with nothing to offer but an oxygenated atmosphere. Temperatures at the midlatitudes facing the sun stayed below freezing. The surface held no valuable minerals. No native plants could survive, and our own couldn’t take root either, making farming impossible. The only settlement was the prison set smack on the equator.

As I dropped through the upper atmosphere, I angled to the landing pad, the only flat space my sensors could pick up anywhere on the surface. I contacted air control and asked permission to land. Like the anal-retentive organizers (that they probably were), air control forced me to park in a neat line beside the sleek shuttle I’d seen on the spaceport.

Looking at it made my skin crawl. I couldn’t help but think of that day on Delve’s Landing, how someone on that shuttle had decided to blow up a ferry’s worth of innocent people just to get me.

“Assholes,” I said under my breath as I executed a perfect landing beside it. I had to admit neither Red nor, seemingly, Haoyu were assholes, but the bulk of Long Enterprises had to be.

Keeping my gaze averted from that stupid shuttle, I shut down my ship’s system except for the lights and heat. (I didn’t want to return to a frigid shuttle; I like my comforts.) In the common room, I stopped and stared at my backpack full of treasures. It wasn’t the sort of thing I wanted to subject to a search on my way into the prison, but I didn’t want to leave it out in the open.

“I hope the locks on this shuttle are good.” I opened one of the cupboards across from the kitchenette and shoved it inside, vowing to create better hiding places in the future.

After putting on my winter coat, I headed outside, making sure to lock the shuttle behind me. The cold air took my breath away. I immediately pulled up my hood and felt thankful for the fuzziness inside.

“Darla Oswiu,” an armed guard said as she approached.

My first thought was she was coming to arrest me, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. Theo65 would never lie to me; they were the one person in my life I knew for sure was solid. I pulled myself up tall and faced the guard.

“That’s correct,” I said in my best ‘adulting voice.’ “I’m here as part of Haoyu Long’s party.”

“Very good. We’ve been expecting you.” She pointed to the nearest set of doors. “The others are already inside.”

Not waiting to be told twice, I strode as fast as I reasonably could to the door and went right in. The guard followed.

Even though it wasn’t the prisoner side of the prison, everything was still a monotonous grey. How did the guards stand it? I assumed, of course, they could leave at any time. I didn’t dare ask the guard acting as my escort; for all I knew, she was a prisoner of a different kind.

“As I understand it, the hearing will be in an hour,” she said as we turned a corner in the corridor and passed through a checkpoint.

“Okay” was the most brilliant thing I could think to say. I still felt like I was walking to my doom.

She stopped abruptly at a set of unlabelled doors, and I nearly plowed right into her.

“Sorry,” I said, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Wait in here.” She indicated the door.

Saving her from another one-word answer, I opened it and went in. It was a waiting room, decorated the same shade of grey as everywhere else I’d seen so far. That was why Red’s hair popped, seeming even brighter than before.

She and Haoyu stood when I entered.

“There’s coffee.” Red held up a cheap printed cup the same shade of grey. This place was a monochromatic nightmare.

I grunted and went to the coffee machine, hiding the redness that marred my cheeks. Admitting I’d been a fool to run off before they could explain was harder than I’d thought. Hell, I was so rarely wrong, I had hardly any practice admitting such things. I filled a cup with coffee and took a seat on the couch facing them.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Haoyu said as if he’d invited me to a dinner party.

“Hmph.” I took a sip of coffee and nearly spit it out. The brew was burnt and had probably been sitting in the carafe most of the day.

“I should have told you why I needed you to come.” Red’s gaze shifted away from mine, and her teeth gnawed at her lower lip.

“Yeah, you should have.” I set my still-full cup on the table in front of us. Although, if she had been honest, I probably would have walked away from her right off the bat.

“I’m sorry,” Red said.

There probably was a ‘right’ thing to say at that moment, but I turned to Haoyu instead. “Why are you helping Norman? Surely you don’t need to be here in person.”

“Like I said in my message, Norman is my friend,” Haoyu said.

I snorted. The Norman I remembered was an arrogant putz who’d seduced my girlfriend. The only act of selflessness I’d seen from him was when he kept his mouth shut and helped me escape. I bit my lip. That single moment probably told me more about his character than anything else, yet I’d let him be convicted of murder.

“I suspect he’s not the man you once knew. Seventeen years in jail will do that,” Haoyu added as though he could read my mind.

“Well, I’m here,” I said as I picked up my coffee and took a sip. It still sucked, but drinking it was better than offering an apology.

“That you are,” Haoyu said as the door to the waiting room opened.

A petite woman in a guard uniform entered with a smile. “I understand one of you wants to make a statement in Mr. Butterworth’s defence?”

Coffee in hand, I stood and faced the guard. I gritted my jaw, ready to throw myself under the bus to free Norman. “He didn’t murder Captain Kassinger. I was there that day.”

Chapter 39

Darla — Present day

Norman entered the room holding only a sack. As soon as he spotted Red and Haoyu, his face changed. His smile appeared genuine, reaching his eyes; it was not an expression I ever saw back in the old days. In fact, he didn’t look like I remembered. He remained as tall as me, but he appeared so much older. (It had been seventeen years since I’d seen him last, and I hated to admit I looked older too.) His hair was thinning, and his face seemed narrower. Wrinkles led away from his eyes in complicated webs.

Red raced forward and wrapped her arms around him. He lifted her off her feet and twirled her around. She giggled—a sound I’d never heard her make. When she let him go, he stepped forward and embraced Haoyu.

“I didn’t believe you could do it.” Norman beamed. “I’ve been granted a complete pardon.”

“I couldn’t have done it alone.” Haoyu gestured to me, and my mouth went dry. “Darla was the key. And locating her proved to be no simple task.”

Norman’s expression turned blank when he met my gaze. I wanted to say something, but the words lodged in my throat. I could have—should have—come forward much, much earlier.

“I’m glad you made it,” Norman said after an uncomfortable pause.

“We don’t need to stay here for another second,” Red chimed in, breaking the tension. “We have a shuttle waiting outside.”

“Right.” Norman sifted the weight of his sack and followed the other two.

I trailed behind, trying and failing to think of the right words to say.

After weaving our way through the prison complex, the four of us returned to the landing pad. The sun slowly descended toward the horizon, painting the sky in fiery orange and deep purple. The wind had picked up, bring waves of frigid, unscented air. It was even more unpleasant than before. I shivered as the cold seeped into my bones.

Ahead, Red chatted with Norman, and he seemed happy about it. A smiling Haoyu walked silently on the other side of his friend. I guessed this counted as a happy ending.

I snorted, a sound the wind whipped away. At least I wouldn’t be stuck on that shuttle with them. I looked at my new ride and smiled. Maybe I’d head to Indigo Station and ask Theo65 to set me up with a robot companion. Then I could go off exploring.

Pressing my lips together, I thought about the map to Old Earth—the whole reason I’d agreed to do this. Red would make good on her promise. I had to believe that. As soon as I was back in space, I would contact Theo65 and let them make the further arrangements. All I needed was a location. I didn’t need the girl.

Without bothering to say goodbye, I peeled off and unlocked my shuttle. After stepping through the airlock, deliciously warm air greeted me. I didn’t regret leaving the heat on one bit. I stripped off my coat and started my new coffeepot. After a proper cup of coffee, all would be well. It turned out making amends for my past failings was a lot of work.

Rapping sounded on the airlock door.

“Crap,” I muttered to myself. Dreading who it might be (I didn’t want to speak with any of them), I debated pretending I hadn’t heard. I could start up the engines, and whoever was out there would have to move away. Closing my eyes, I let my forehead rest on the wall. I just couldn’t bring myself to be that kind of asshole today. I trudged over to answer the door.

Standing in the frigid air was Norman.

I frowned. “Get in here before I lose all my warm air.”

He stepped past me, and I shut the door behind him. He took my words as an invitation and went straight to my kitchen table, which reminded me of how annoying he used to be, always wanting to be the centre of attention. I couldn’t help but wonder if he remained the same arrogant man as always.

“First of all.” He stopped and surveyed the shuttle’s interior. “Wow, the colours in here are hard on the eyes.”

I shrugged. “It’s a fixer-upper.”

He fixed his gaze on me. “What I came to say is thank you.”

I froze, all words slipping from my mind. It was a strange moment, not one I’d ever expected. His sincerity created a guilty knot in my gut. My coffeepot beeped, announcing to both of us it was ready. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

I pulled out my only two mugs—brand-new blue ones, my favourite colour—and filled them with steaming liquid. I placed them both on the table and sat across from Norman.

“If I’d known my testimony was all that was needed, I wouldn’t have hesitated to come forward earlier.” I swallowed, hoping my words were more true than aspirational. “And I regret not coming sooner. Actually, I deeply regret it.”

He shrugged. “You came forward now, and I thank you for that.”

It seemed I was trapped in a little love fest—next, he’d want a hug. I took a sip of my proper coffee and savoured its bitterness. I figured I might as well participate (excluding hugs); maybe I wasn’t too old to grow as a human being. “Thank you for not giving away my hiding place all those years ago.”

He smiled. “We were both betrayed that day.”

“I know.” The memory of Vi catching up with me on Delve’s Landing played in my brain. She had to have known I’d say no, and her coconspirators would try to kill me. But she hadn’t whispered a word. Then it hit me. “Red’s your daughter. Does that mean…”

“Virginia is Red’s mother.”

As the realization sank in, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through me like a raging storm. First, I was an idiot for not noticing, considering Red looked just like her mother. Then a wave of anger crashed over me, directed not only at Red for keeping this truth but also at myself for being so blind.

“Well…shit.” (Yeah, the lamest comeback ever.)

Now I knew, the resemblance between the two was obvious. Red looked so much like her mother, yet there was a vulnerability in her eyes that was uniquely her own.

Red being Vi’s daughter implied the map to Earth on the Habitat belonged to Vi. She’d always wanted it and must have found it somewhere following a trail I never picked up. Why in the hell did she want to sell it? At least she didn’t know I was the buyer—or at least I hoped she didn’t. Red had mentioned she hadn’t talked to her mother since leaving. But I couldn’t rule out the possibility she served as her mother’s representative.

“Red is a great kid,” Norman said before taking a sip of coffee.

I paused and stared at him for a moment. Right, I needed to focus on Norman. I was supposed to be growing as a human being here, not trying to figure out who’d screwed me over.

“I’m surprised Vi even told her about you.” I held my mug in both hands—I needed the warmth.

He pursed his lips for a moment. “Vi didn’t—or at least Vi didn’t give Red much in the way of details. Red tracked me down herself.”

“Oh.”

He gazed into his mug. “I was even hesitant to meet with her at first. It seemed…” His words trailed off as he stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know, pointless almost. At that stage I’d assumed I’d be in jail forever. What did I have to offer her?”

I didn’t say anything, and silence drew out between us. I got up and refilled our mugs.

“What are you going to do now?”

Norman shrugged. “I don’t have big plans. But there’s a pie place on Indigo Station I’ve been dreaming about.”

“Em’s Pies!” I loved that place.

“That’s the place, best pies ever.” Norman grinned as he stood. “Anyway, I shouldn’t keep the others waiting. It was nice chatting with you.”

“Anytime,” I said, and I actually meant it.

Norman walked aft, and I heard the outside airlock door open and close. I sighed. There was no point sticking around. I took the time to wash the mugs (because only a heathen left dirty mugs lying around), then I returned to the cockpit. Haoyu’s shuttle was already gone. As I vowed to call Theo65 from orbit, I started the shuttle and did my preflight checks.

“You need a name,” I said, patting the console. Nothing immediately came to mind, so I requested permission to leave.

The prison’s flight control was quick to answer, and I was on my way. As I rose above the mountainous landscape, I spotted the other shuttle in the distance. The sleek thing glinted in the sunlight like an ornament. As an experiment to test my new-to-me ship, I turned on my scanner, and it quickly picked up the shuttle as a red blip.

Then another red blip appeared, moving fast on a direct course for the other shuttle.

“Oh, shit!”

I opened a comms channel. “Haoyu, come in.”

I could now see the other craft with my augmented goggle vision. It wasn’t a shuttle. It was a missile, probably launched from orbit.

“Haoyu, Red, Norman, you have a missile incoming. Drop low to the ground.”

Uncertain if a missile would soon be launched at me too, I dropped low, putting myself below the mountaintops.

Far ahead, the other shuttle dipped down and began weaving from side to side. I bit my lip, and for a moment time seemed to stand still.

Haoyu’s attempt at countermeasures didn’t fool the missile. It continued to approach from above, and at the apex of one of its turns, it surged down and tore through the starboard engine. A flurry of fireballs erupted from the impact. The force of the explosion forced the craft into an out-of-control spin, flames engulfing the sides as it plummeted to the ground below.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered as I angled myself to see where they were going to crash. “Haoyu, I hope you’re a good pilot.”

I didn’t bother calling them again. They were clearly busy with impending doom.

I held my breath as I tracked them. The fire burned out, leaving a trail of greasy black smoke in the shuttle’s wake. My heart raced as I dared to get closer, pushing against every survival instinct in my body. The logical thing to do was flee—the former version of me would have done just that. But now I wanted to make sure I was on site quickly after they hit the ground. (What the hell? Was I growing as a person?)

An alert from my sensors chimed, showing another missile approaching—and not in my direction. A second strike would kill them all for sure.

“Shit.”

I yanked back on my controls, pushing the sluggish shuttle into a near-vertical ascent. My heart raced like a jackhammer, barely keeping up with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

In a reckless act of pure madness, I sped right toward the missile, waiting until the very last second to dive. Behind me, all my newly purchased dishes tumbled onto the deck. At least I’d bought nothing breakable.

A quick glance at my sensors confirmed the missile was now on my tail, which was what I’d wanted (a stupid plan, I knew).

I eased the controls toward myself, and the shuttle levelled out metres above a rocky ridge. On the other side, I followed the terrain down into a deep gully. Partway down, an enormous boulder came into view directly in my path. I held my breath as I rushed straight for it.

“Playing chicken with the terrain,” I muttered as the boulder grew before me.

Holding my breath again, I jerked the shuttle to the right. Turned out I was a hair too close. One of the shuttle’s stubby wings scraped along the side of the boulder, ruining the hull’s paint job further.

Just behind me, the missile slammed into the boulder. The concussion made my shuttle lurch forward.

As I circled around, I saw the boulder had been knocked from its perch and now tumbled to the gully below. The missile was gone, but would there be more? I headed to the crash site. There was no time to waste.

A dark pillar of smoke rose from the crashed shuttle, making it easy to find. The hull remained intact, which meant hope was not lost—yet.

I bit my lip as I maneuvered into the cramped space. Wrecking my shuttle too wouldn’t make for the greatest rescue. I didn’t see anyone on the ground when I landed. I didn’t even bother powering down. I just ran for the airlock.

The frigid air hit me like a wall, but there was no time to put on my coat. My lungs burned with each breath, and frost seeped through my clothes, yet I pushed forward. When I reached the other shuttle, I yanked open its door.

“Hello?” I shouted. The inside was dark.

“I’m here,” Norman said as he turned on an emergency light. His elbow was bent at an impossible angle. He winced as he moved.

The red emergency lighting revealed Red’s form, wobbling but otherwise intact.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Two out of the three could be saved.

“Where’s Haoyu?” I asked.

Norman grimaced, his damaged arm hanging at his side. I charged in and passed him on my way to the cockpit.

Haoyu slumped over the controls and wasn’t moving.

“Haoyu,” I said as I rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Huh? What?” His words were slurred.

“We don’t have much time. I need to get you out of here before…” I let my words trail off. We weren’t out of the woods yet. I stood and turned around. “Red, help your dad to my shuttle.”

She looked at me with wide eyes, then at her dad. She recoiled as if realizing for the first time he was injured. But she pulled herself together quickly. “Okay,” she said.

As Red and Norman started toward my shuttle, I knelt and undid Haoyu’s seat belt, grateful for the space in his luxury shuttle’s cockpit.

He slumped into me, and I did my best to keep him upright. As he moved, I saw a lot of blood on his face from a gash at his hairline.

“You gotta stand,” I said, even though I was perfectly willing to drag him to my shuttle. I just didn’t know how much time we had. On the ground like we were, we were sitting ducks to another missile.

“Okay,” he said, then puked on my boots.

After that he got to his feet. I slung his arm over my neck and took most of his weight. Then we headed to my shuttle.

Chapter 40

Darla — Present day

The window was cool to the touch as I leaned against it, feeling the slight pressure on my skin. Placing my hand on the glass, I peered out. Below, the swirling clouds of New Venus billowed like a bowl of cotton candy.

Our trip away from Vander’s Edge had gone without further incident—mostly because the prison’s air control had picked up the missiles too and called for backup. Whoever had fired those missiles was long gone.

I must admit, dodging flaming missiles is not exactly my idea of a good time. In fact, I never wanted to do it again. Someone had tried to kill us, and no one knew who or why—although we had theories.

“Here.” With one arm encased in the hospital’s nanite splint and sling, Norman handed me a cup of coffee with his good hand. It was steaming. “It might help.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip. The brew was black and slightly burned, just how I liked it. I smiled and looked at Red. She had flopped down on one of the chairs and was fast asleep. Norman looked at her too and sighed.

“You’ve been back in my life for only a few days, and already we’re acting like an old couple.”

“Well, we did get old.” He smiled. Despite the complexity of our situation, he seemed relaxed. I guessed not being in jail would do that. “But I can’t picture us as a couple.”

“True.” I nodded and took another sip. “Is Haoyu going to be okay?”

“Yeah, they want him to stay under observation for the night, but tomorrow he should be able to go.”

“And Red?” I glanced at where Red slept. She looked so young, and now I knew she looked just like her mom.

Norman leaned against the other half of the window, taking care not to disturb his injured arm. “Red is freaked out about someone trying to kill us.”

“Why would anyone do that?” It was the question I’d been asking myself since we’d arrived on the station. “I mean, why try to shoot down your shuttle?”

He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

I sighed and stared out the window.

“But I need to say I’m grateful you came back for us. If it wasn’t for your bravery, we’d be dead.”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You’re just lucky I took the time to wash the dishes before liftoff.”

He chuckled, but there was an undercurrent of something in his laughter, and it made me uneasy. “Apart from those ridiculous goggles, you haven’t changed a bit.”

I froze, unsure if his words were meant as a compliment or an insult. I clung to the silence between us, uncertain how to respond.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked after a long while.

I swallowed. I didn’t have an answer. “That rust bucket of a shuttle is mine. I could go anywhere.”

He nodded slowly. “Red said you wanted to go to the Habitat.”

“Yeah, I had a line on an artifact…” I let my words trail off.

“But?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s where Vi is.” I bit my lip. I’d thought Red was my contact, but now I suspected it was Vi all along.

“That’s going to end up complicated,” he said. “Out of curiosity, what’s the artifact?”

After staring at him for a moment, I figured what the hell did it matter? I didn’t need to keep my plan a secret. “I’ve been looking for the map to Old Earth.”

“Wasn’t that Virginia’s dream artifact?”

I took a deep breath. Norman was right. Worse, Vi had shared that with him.

“I suspect she’s the contact I’ve been communicating with on the Habitat,” I said. “But I connected those dots only after you told me she’s Red’s mother.”

“So you two never linked up again after…” He left his question hanging.

“I saw her once, and I was still mad at her at the time.” I shrugged. “After that I didn’t look for her again.”

The TUD unit turned my way as soon as I set foot in the thrift shop. Its blank face somehow seemed to hold judgement.

“We do not accept returns,” it said.

I smiled. I liked this robot—it was blunt and to the point. “Actually, I’m looking for something else.”

The robot seemed momentarily taken aback before it replied in a monotone, “In that case, how may I be of assistance?”

“I need a robot to be my copilot,” I said as I approached the counter. “One that is reliable and trustworthy to help me navigate my travels through space. Do you have anything like that?”

The TUD unit tapped its fingers against its faceplate as it considered the request. After a few moments of consideration, it spoke again.

“There are no robots for sale in this shop at this time. I could record your contact information in case one becomes available, but don’t hold your breath.”

“What about you? I know your model can pilot shuttles,” I said.

Its servos made a squealing sound as if gears were turning in its head. “Stand by. I will contact the owner.”

A moment later a breathless woman holding a baby burst into the shop. She looked at me and frowned. Then she turned to the TUD unit. “What could she want that you can’t help her with?” The baby squirmed in her arms.

“This human wishes to purchase me to copilot their shuttle,” it said.

“What?” She turned to me again. “Are you aware of what they say about these units?”

“I am,” I said, and the baby yawned. “I will offer full market value for the unit, even though their interaction algorithms seem a bit off.”

“What you really need is an AI to be your copilot,” she said.

“We have several options available,” the TUD unit said.

“No, I need it.” I pointed to the robot. “I’ll double my offer.”

The woman’s jaw dropped. She shifted the baby to her other hip. “You have a deal.”

“This is most unusual,” the TUD unit said as we left the thrift shop.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

“Negative,” it replied in its robotic voice.

“How about I call you Tud?” At least that would be easy to remember.

“That would be acceptable,” it said. “I must inform you that my algorithm bank does not contain anything suitable for flying a shuttle.

“We can download what you need,” I said.

“Are you involved in criminal activities?” Tud asked.

I hesitated before responding. “No.” I frowned; that was mostly true. Well, would be truer in the future. “But someone is trying to kill me and my friends.”

“I must inform you that my original combat algorithms have been overwritten,” Tud said.

“I was honest when I said I need you as my copilot,” I said.

“I do not wish for my combat algorithms to be reinstalled,” Tud said.

“Then I promise I won’t do that.” It turned out Tud was operating on some sort of morals. This surprised me.

“I will hold you to this promise.” Tud stopped and turned its blank face to me. “However, meat bags are not known for keeping promises.”

I froze under its glare. “Meat bags?” Then I broke into laughter. “You’ll do just fine, Tud.”

Chapter 41

Norman — Seven years ago

Norman zipped his coat to his neck and stepped onto the prison roof. He drew in a sharp breath. As he slowly exhaled, a thin white cloud escaped his lips. The sun glistened off snow-covered peaks that jutted up like a crown around the prison walls.

Vander’s Edge was a far cry from the dank and dull Hamber’s Hole. He was no longer forced to work long, arduous hours in the mines. Instead he worked a standard eight-hour day disassembling old electronics. It was okay…but was it enough?

He turned at the sound of someone coming up the stairs.

“My sister sent a present,” Haoyu said as he joined Norman on the roof.

Prisoners were allotted one hour per day to be on the roof. Just last week they’d moved Norman and Haoyu to the same shift. Once again they could spend time together.

“So she finally got something past the guards?”

Haoyu smiled. “It’s benign.” He held up a box. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m sure it was examined thoroughly before I got it.”

“A chess set?” Norman raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.” Haoyu took a seat on the concrete bench and opened the box. Pristine white and black pieces filled it. “Do you still play?”

Norman laughed. “I haven’t played for years.” He sat across from Haoyu. “You know the last game I played was with you.”

“Oh, I remember.” Haoyu set up the board, white for himself and black for Norman. “For some reason my sister was feeling generous.”

“I didn’t think your sister was talking with you,” Norman said as he moved his pawn forward.

“She came for a surprise visit.”

“Was that a good thing?” Norman asked.

Haoyu shrugged. “She seems to think I’m hiding something from her. Some old notebook. I had no idea what she was talking about.”

“Yet despite that, she still left you a…gift?”

Haoyu gave a half-hearted grin and shook his head. “I was almost expecting it to be a bomb or something. But nope, it’s just a chess set.”

“She doesn’t seem like the gift-giving type,” Norman said.

“I know, it’s strange. She even offered to find me a lawyer and see if I could get out of this place earlier than expected.”

“It seems extreme to sentence someone to twenty years in prison for transporting classified documents,” Norman said.

“Don’t forget those documents were stolen.” Haoyu made a move.

A whirring sound pulled Norman’s and Haoyu’s attention away from the board. Norman rose and moved to the edge of the roof.

Below, the cliffs extended down one hundred metres or so to a narrow valley. On other worlds, a valley like that would have a river flowing through it, but not here. Even the ‘snow’ on the mountains wasn’t actual snow, just frozen carbon dioxide. No one bothered trying to escape Vander’s Edge, because if they didn’t freeze to death, the complete lack of water would kill them.

“What is it?” Haoyu asked. His boots clicked against the roof of the concrete prison as he joined his friend.

Norman leaned over the edge, trying desperately to see what was making the mysterious sound. He shook his head. “I can’t see it.”

The whirring continued. It didn’t seem to be coming from the prison.

“This can’t be good.” Haoyu took a pace toward the stairs.

A TUD model robot burst onto the roof, knocking over Norman. It had combat fittings, including a phaser. Norman rolled out of reach as the robot shifted its aim and targeted Haoyu.

“Guards!” Haoyu backed away from the robot. “Guards!”

Norman surveyed his surroundings. In a last-ditch effort to protect Haoyu, he snatched up the chessboard and hurled it at the robot.

The pieces flew out like shrapnel, while the force of his throw caused the board to shatter against the robot’s arm. The robot staggered back. Its circuitry sparked and fizzled before emitting an intense whirring sound.

“Your sister must have chosen the bargain bin model,” Norman scoffed as he snatched up a shard of the splintered board. With a lunge, he shoved it into the robot’s elbow joint and twisted it. A gush of clear liquid sprayed out, and the phaser crashed to the floor.

“Back out of the way,” a guard shouted as she sprinted onto the roof.

Norman and Haoyu scrambled away from the menacing robot in terror as its blazing red eyes met theirs.

As if calculating its next move, the robot paused, its back to the railing.

The guard fired her blaster, hitting it in the chest. A loud clang reverberated as the force of the blast threw the robot backward. Its foot caught on a pawn, and it skidded, top heavy and teetering. A gust of wind finished the job, pushing it over the railing.

Norman, Haoyu, and the guard all raced to peer over the edge. The robot plummeted down the valley walls in a shower of sparks, smacking against stone before crashing heavily at the bottom.

“I guess we should send someone to check that out,” the guard said. She retrieved the robot’s weapon before turning and running down the stairs.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Norman bent down and picked up the pawn. The faux ivory piece was unblemished.

Haoyu broke into a fit of laughter, which infected Norman with a chuckle.

“My sister is determined. One day she might get lucky,” Haoyu said.

Norman gathered a few other pieces before meeting his friend’s gaze. “No, she won’t. But she did buy you a chess set, so let’s make sure we get all the pieces.”

Haoyu started gathering them. “Quick thinking, by the way. Thank you for saving my life.”

Norman shrugged. “You’d do the same for me.”

Haoyu stood and frowned. “We don’t have a board anymore.”

“I’ll talk to one of the guys in the carpentry shop. I’m sure we can make one.”

Chapter 42

Darla — Present day

To my surprise Haoyu insisted on coming with us to the Habitat. My new shuttle was now filled to capacity—four bunks and four people. I even broke down and bought proper bedding for all of us and enough mugs so we could have coffee at the same time (uncharacteristic of me, I knew). We’d be cramped, but at least we’d be cozy.

After looking at what I had on board (and cursing my choice of packaged foods), Norman and Haoyu stocked the pantry with fresh food with the promise that one of them would cook it.

Like a looming statue with a bad paint job, Tud stood just inside the airlock when I came on board.

“Have you downloaded the required code?” I asked it.

“Affirmative.” It shifted. “I must inform you this shuttle has reached max capacity for oxygen breathers.”

“Thanks for pointing that out, Tud.” I headed farther inside.

“Sadly, I’m here to serve,” Tud said as it secured the airlock with a thunk.

I grinned at it. “At least you aren’t calling me a meat bag. We might become friends.”

“I am a robot. I don’t make friends,” it said before stalking away to the cockpit.

“So all you’re after is a map?” Haoyu said as we finished a meal I didn’t cook. (There were some benefits to having others around, but being forced to answer questions wasn’t one of them.)

I gulped. The weight of seventeen years of searching for the lost map to Old Earth sat heavily on my shoulders. “Yes.”

“The same one Virginia used to talk about,” Norman said as he rubbed his injured arm. The hospital’s nanite splint seemed to have done its job.

I frowned. While I might have been open to having him on board, I didn’t appreciate him mentioning our shared intimacy with the same woman. Hell, it surprised me to realize the amount of residual anger I held about that.

“Mom talked about it all the time,” Red said. “She said it was once in her grasp, then taken away.”

Had Red been talking about our failed robbery attempt on the Garden Princess? I glanced at Haoyu. The medical staff had sealed the gash in his forehead, but a purple line remained.

“What did they put you away for?” I remembered how the Protectorate had been interested in the case—and how it had contained three top-secret data drives.

“Peddling state secrets,” Haoyu said.

“Back then were you aware of the contents of the case?” I asked.

Haoyu sighed. “Honestly, no. My sister asked me to take it to New Venus. She told me she’d meet me there.”

“Do you think she set you up?” Norman asked.

Haoyu started gathering the empty plates. “Knowing her, she probably did. That was back when she was consolidating her control over Long Enterprises. I was a threat to that.”

“What if those data drives contained the map to Old Earth?” I asked. The wheels in my brain were churning. Everything had to fit together, but how? If Vi had the map, why would she try to sell it?

“They could have.” Haoyu didn’t sound convinced.

I exhaled. “I had them briefly, but Vi contacted me, and I handed them back.” With a snort I stared down at my hands. “Whomever she was working for paid me, then blew up the ferry shuttle I was supposed to be on.”

“That sounds like something my sister would do,” Haoyu said, shaking his head.

Red frowned. “Your sis sounds terrible.”

Haoyu nodded. “That would be accurate.”

“Okay,” I said, drawing everyone’s focus back to me. “My assumption is my contact on the Habitat is Red’s mom.”

A flush of pink crept across Red’s cheeks, and she tucked her chin ever so slightly before nodding.

“And Virginia somehow got the map,” Norman added.

“And we know someone is trying to kill one or all three of you,” I said.

“My sister probably wants me out of the picture.” Haoyu sighed. “Still, I’ve told her repeatedly I have no interest in the family business.”

“Do we go to the Habitat?” I asked.

Tud poked its head into the room. “No matter what you do, I will remain on this ship. It sounds like you humans are opening a can of words.”

“Worms,” I said over my shoulder. “The idiom is ‘opening a can of worms.’”

“Noted.” Tud returned to the cockpit.

Red’s eyes widened. “What if my mom’s in trouble? I mean, maybe she’s being used to draw us in.” She bit her lip.

I frowned. We didn’t know nearly enough. Despite my desire for the map, it felt like we were walking into a trap. But Red was with us, and Vi would care about her. That suggested it wasn’t Vi who’d arranged for the missiles. Haoyu’s sister seemed the best guess.

“Where’s the Habitat?” I looked Red in the eyes. I’d done my part in our deal. Now it was time for Red to do hers.

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at the table. “On GX-41.”

“That’s in this system,” Norman cut in. He looked to Red. “You didn’t have to come far to see me.”

Red shook her head.

“Tud, plot us on a course for GX-41,” I shouted.

“Yes, meat bag,” it said from the cockpit.

GX-41 didn’t have a spaceport or elevator, leaving us no choice but to land on the ground. Tud didn’t like it, but that’s how it was going to be. (Robots are supposed to follow instructions, right?)

Most of GX-41 was a nature preserve because of an abundance of native flora. As we came under the planet’s ubiquitous layer of clouds, the view amazed me—and not in a good way. The surface at this latitude seemed uniformly flat and mostly a maggot-tea-green shade with hints of puke tone.

As we descended, what looked like polka dots broke up the sludge hues with circles of blue—open water, I assumed. The brown and green patchwork on the slimy surface reminded me of a hand-knitted sweater my mother had made me years ago, one I refused to wear.

The xenobiologists in charge of the preserve were protecting a variety of slime molds, which were diverse, unique, and possibly sentient. They thrived in the warm swamps (the slime mould, not the xenobiologists) that covered much of the midlatitudes.

From above I couldn’t understand why anyone would envision a utopia on this world. The landscape appeared monotonous and boring, but a feeling inside me insisted there was more to it.

“Hey, Red, are you sure this is the right place?” I shouted over my shoulder.

“Yep,” she replied. Norman had roped her into playing chess. Haoyu had disappeared for a nap.

“Fantastic.” I contacted the air traffic controller and secured landing permission.

The town wasn’t much. Mostly, it comprised a cluster of buildings surrounding the research lab. Upon opening the airlock, a wave of humid air hit me, including a waft of sulphur combined with the sickly-sweet scent of rotting plant matter. I nearly choked.

Unfazed by the stench, Red walked past me onto the tarmac. “Come on, I’ll call the train.”

“Train? Really?” Nothing made my day more than riding a train.

“You’ll see.” She strode ahead, heading to the nearest building. Norman and Haoyu followed.

“I will lock the door after you depart, human,” Tud said once the two of us were alone.

“Makes sense.”

My brain went to the contents of my backpack—specifically that printed steam engine I’d made as a gift all those years ago, before everything had changed. I’d made it for Vi. Should I give it to her now? No. My backpack was safer here with Tud.

“I’m trusting you with my ship.” I looked Tud in the faceplate while I patted my pocket to confirm I had my Emerg-Blast.

Tud cocked its head. “Are you certain that is wise?”

“I make all sorts of foolish decisions. Time will only tell if you are one of them.”

“Affirmative,” it said.

“You have a lock on my comms device?” I asked as I stepped to the ground of GX-41. The others were nearing the train station.

“Yes.” Tud slammed the outside door shut, and I nearly burst out laughing.

Snickering, I turned and jogged to the door the others had vanished through.

Inside was a waiting room with molded yellow plastic chairs and a kiosk selling coffee in the corner. A whir from an air-conditioning unit created a background soundscape and, thankfully, cooler air. The worn interior was much more my speed compared to the pristine look of the New Venus spaceport. The room helped me relax a bit.

I ordered a coffee and grabbed a huge chocolate chip cookie from the kiosk before sitting beside Norman.

“This place isn’t what I expected,” Norman said while working on his own cookie. Crumbs fell, covering his lap.

Red stood in the corner chatting with a young man who was also waiting for the train, while Haoyu appeared to have fallen asleep in the seat across from us. (That man really needed a proper night’s sleep.)

“Vi always wanted a life of luxury.” I frowned. “I can’t imagine she found that here.” I tagged everyone in the waiting room with my goggles and found no repeat contacts. Then I shifted my focus to my cookie. It was sweet, and the chocolate chunks melted in my mouth. (I ignored the crumbs.)

Red wasn’t kidding about the train. It took over two hours to show up. It was definitely a train, except this one hovered, which made sense as the planet seemed covered in mud flats and explained why I hadn’t seen any tracks on our way in.

The Habitat pulled out all the stops when it concealed its location. It had an engine and three cars, all meticulously painted in the same hues as the surrounding mud and grime, so no one could spot it from above.

With a whoosh, it pulled up next to the waiting room and stopped, aligning the second car with the raised walk outside.

Wearing a wide grin, Red came back. “It’s here.”

Norman and I stood.

The entire scene felt surreal. We couldn’t possibly be on the Habitat’s planet. Despite all the talk about the supposed utopia, no one had ever mentioned mud and slime mold.

“Let’s go on board,” Red said with a smile. “They have to load some supplies, then we’ll be off.”

I nodded as Norman leaned over and woke Haoyu. The group of us stepped onto the train. I took a seat by the window, taking care not to spill my terrible coffee, then resumed nibbling my cookie.

Red sat beside me. I broke off a chunk of cookie and handed it to her. “I can’t wait to get home.”

“Why did you leave?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, to get my dad.”

“So you intend on living in the Habitat forever?”

A dark expression crossed her face. “I don’t know.” She looked at her hands.

“Maybe you need to get out and explore a bit? Take some time and decide for yourself.”

“My mom can be insistent,” she said.

“Oh, I know.” I finished the cookie and brushed the crumbs from my jacket onto the floor of the pristine car.

We sat in silence for a moment. A flatbed truck arrived, and people loaded boxes onto the train.

“I got accepted at the University on Seven Soaring Swans,” Red said.

I turned to her and cocked my head. Hadn’t she told me something different before? “That’s great. I hear it’s hard to get in, so congratulations. What are you going to study?”

Red shrugged. “Xenobiology with Dr. Fuller.” She was a scientist I’d heard of. Her discovery of life in New Venus’s atmosphere had been all the rage lately.

“I’m sure she’s been flooded with candidates, so you must be pretty awesome,” I said.

She frowned and bit her lip.

“What’s the problem?” I asked as the train pulled away from the station.

Red gazed at the floor. “That program is what my mom wants. She even wants me to attend remotely.”

“Didn’t you tell me about a different program before?” I asked.

“Blue Moon University,” she said. “Mom said it was too far away.”

“And you prefer the program there?”

Red nodded.

“Then go to Blue Moon University. The decision should be yours.”

The trip across the mud flats wasn’t exactly beautiful, nor did it seem to change once we’d left the science outpost buildings. I wasn’t sure what to think. This world appeared unsuitable for settling. But why settle anywhere when spaceships exist? I snorted, then dozed off. Train rides were always good for sleeping.

“Hey, Darla.” Norman’s voice woke me from my slumber.

I opened my eyes and checked to make sure I wasn’t drooling. “What?”

“We’re slowing down,” he said. He sat across from me with a now-awake Haoyu beside him. Red chatted with a boy a few seats away.

“Huh?” I looked outside. Mud flats continued as far as I could see. “Do the pools seem smaller?”

“Yes, and I think we’ve been climbing too,” Norman said.

The train continued to slow as the slime- and mold-infested pools we passed shrank and then vanished altogether. I pressed my forehead against the glass to see ahead of the train. It looked like more of the same, extending to the horizon.

“Why would we stop here?” I said.

A blue light formed at the engine, gradually moving back as the train on the other side vanished. As the line passed our field of vision, the surroundings changed. On the other side there were idyllic fields of plants extending off into the distance. Robotic workers tended the crops. As the train cleared the barrier, it picked up speed again.

“Tud, can you still pick me up?” I asked into my comms device. There was no response, as if whatever that blue light was had also blocked comms. I took a deep breath. If shit hit the fan and we needed to run, we’d have to get past that barrier before we could call the shuttle—not a good scenario considering how big this place was.

“Wow,” Haoyu said as he leaned over Norman to get a slightly better view.

“This looks like a kind of paradise,” Norman said. “No wonder Virginia came here.”

Buildings came into view. Everything was moulded in organic shapes as though sharp edges were forbidden (and maybe they were). The houses looked like overgrown amoeba yet still seemed inviting. Each home was surrounded by—and sometimes encased in—an abundance of greenery.

As we traveled, the density of the homes increased until it was clear we were entering a town.

Chapter 43

Darla — Present day

With a soft hiss the train pulled into a station adorned with bulbous organic shapes, all in a warm white hue. A mass of dangling vines hung from the roof, and seemingly random but softly rounded windows without glass broke up the walls.

As soon as the doors slid open, Norman, Haoyu, and I followed Red onto the platform. The air was moist and warm, but the sulphur scent was gone. The air smelled better than what a newly serviced air handling unit produced (a big compliment in my world). I set my goggles to record everything.

Red said something to the boy, and they parted ways. Then she turned back to us.

“My house is this way.” She gestured through the station.

As I followed her, a knot tightened in my stomach, twisting and turning with each step closer to the inevitable reunion. A faint tremor ran through my hands, betraying the mix of excitement and apprehension that coursed through my veins.

After seventeen years I was finally going to see Vi again. Was I ready? I wished I’d brought that train as a gift, but it remained in my backpack on the shuttle. What was I thinking, leaving it behind? At the same time I chided myself for the idea of bringing the woman who’d betrayed me a gift.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that clung to me like a second skin. After all this time I found it surprising that such intense emotion stirred within me. I wanted to start my Hank the Hippo program and talk to him, but I wasn’t alone. I swallowed.

“What was that blue light we passed through?” Norman asked.

Red shrugged and kept walking.

We followed her to a street mostly clear of vehicles. The earthy scent of fertile soil mixed with a hint of burnt rubber filled the air.

Immense trees lined the street, creating pools of cool shade for us to walk through. I studied each one as we passed. Moss grew in shiny patches on the bark, and insects made their homes in the network of branches overhead.

Typical frontier town shops lined the road, each with a unique organic charm that I was beginning to understand was unique to the Habitat. Red continued onto a side road lined with houses with private gardens. Chaotic masses of greenery surrounded every home. This was a nice place to raise a kid.

The closer we got to Red’s house, the more unease tightened its grip on me. Doubts and insecurities swirled in my mind, threatening to consume me. The Vi I was going to meet wasn’t the woman I fell in love with, and she might not be the one who’d betrayed me, either. I didn’t know what to expect.

Near the end of a row of homes, Red turned up a walkway to a red door. We followed close behind.

“Hey, Mom,” Red said as she opened the door. “Check out who’s with— Oh shit!” She froze just inside the door.

I stepped back, while Norman and Haoyu leaned forward to peer inside. We bumped into one another.

Haoyu’s voice cut through the tense silence like a knife through butter. “Pam.”

His tone left me cold. I could think of only one thing: This is the end.

A short, grey-haired woman in ordinary clothes stepped forward and smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “My dear baby brother.”

“We have to go now!” I yanked at Haoyu’s arm, desperate.

“It’s too late,” Norman hissed, pointing behind us.

Three military surplus TUD units, still painted their original fear-inducing grey, formed a half circle three metres away. All had weapons pointed at us. Above, a swarm of tiny drones buzzed around us. It was unclear if they were armed (they probably were).

Panic surged through my body as I released Haoyu’s arm. “This isn’t good,” I said, my voice rough.

“We’ll get through this together, my dears.” Pam beamed warmly at us. “Come inside, and let me make you a cup of tea. We must catch up.” She motioned for us to join her in the cozy house that was not hers.

I gritted my teeth and followed her in. It turned out to be a trap, after all.

“Mom! Where are you?” Red called, her voice echoing in the hallway.

“I’m here, darling,” Vi said, and a shiver went up my spine at hearing her voice after all these years.

In the foyer I laid eyes on Vi for the first time in seventeen years. Her beauty still enthralled me. Her long dark hair was now streaked with white at the temples, but her skin looked as soft as rose petals, and her body was as curvaceous as ever.

“You look good,” Norman said beside me.

I just snorted. A voice in my head reminded me I’d been trying to turn over a new leaf. My rudeness couldn’t be taken back. I should’ve apologized, but the moment quickly passed.

The TUD units followed Haoyu in and closed the door behind us.

“Why don’t you take the reunion to the living room?” Pam’s suggestion carried an undercurrent of command, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Ms. Oswiu and I have business to discuss in the kitchen.”

“Sure.” Norman, caught the gravity of Pam’s words, led Vi, Red, and Haoyu away. As he passed me, his raised eyebrow conveyed a warning (or annoyance at my snort earlier).

Taking a play out of Red’s repertoire, I bit my lip. Why in the hell would the woman who ran one of the largest crime syndicates want to talk to me? A knot twisted in my gut.

The killer robots, their presence a silent but deadly reminder of Pam’s power, followed the others to the living room, their metallic joints moving with unnerving precision. Their presence with my friends (could I have called them that?) was a not-so-subtle threat.

Seeing no other choice, I followed Pam to the kitchen.

“Please sit,” she said, gesturing to the shiny metal table and chairs in the corner.

I plunked myself down in a seat with my back to a wall. If I had to have a ‘chat’ with the head of a crime organization, I wanted to make sure none of her robots snuck up behind me.

“Why am I here?” I asked, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Pam hummed a tune, a disconcerting melody that contrasted with her methodical actions as she prepared tea. The care she took in pouring the water and setting the mugs on the table seemed theatrical, a deliberate display of calm control. She poured the tea into two warm, cheery mugs, leaving plenty of room for milk and sweetener. With a final flourish, she set a cup in front of me.

“All those years ago, you stole from me,” she began, her voice smooth. “Sugar?”

“Umm…” I looked down at my underbrewed tea. “No thank you on the sugar. And I didn’t know I stole from you. We thought…” My words trailed off.

We had known Haoyu belonged to the Long family, and he’d said flat-out he was taking the case somewhere for his sister, so looking back it should have been obvious. Vi and Norman probably had figured that out long ago. I sighed.

Pam smiled like a wizened grandma who wouldn’t hurt a fly. She sipped her tea with a grace that belied her reputation for ruthlessness.

“From the beginning Ms. Akter worked for me. She was a handy contact for moving items around—items I didn’t want the authorities to track.”

The cup in my hand felt heavy, the warm liquid failing to dispel the chill that enveloped me. Guilt, regret, and shame overwhelmed me as I learned the extent of what Vi had done behind my back. I was a fool for not noticing. But if I had found out earlier, would I have helped her? Back then I was a fool in love.

“She was supposed to steal that case from my brother,” Pam said. “That was the plan.”

I shook my head. “But he was delivering the case for you!”

Pam shrugged, her nonchalance chilling. “The authorities were closing in on him.”

“That’s cold,” I said before I thought better of it. I couldn’t believe she’d treated her brother that way—hell, my sister and I had never got along, but I wouldn’t have done anything a quarter as cold as that to her.

Pam met my gaze and smiled. “He’s always been a bit of a problem.”

“Is that why you keep trying to kill him?” I tried to play it cool and drag more details out of her, but my palms were sweating, making it hard to hold the mug.

She waved a hand to dismiss the topic. “I’d like to move on to my case, the one you stole from the Garden Princess.”

“If you recall, I gave it back.”

Pam nodded, taking a sip of tea. “Yes, for a handsome price.”

“Then you tried to kill me.”

“Kill you?” She looked taken aback. “I would never—”

“Seventeen years ago your people blew up a ferry shuttle leaving Delve’s Landing—one I was supposed to be on. It was full of people.” I leaned in, trying to look fierce.

“Right, there was that.” She shrugged. “That’s minor compared to what I’ve done since.” She smiled sweetly.

I paused, remembering what Haoyu had theorized about the Garden Princess’s destruction. “Did you destroy the Garden Princess?”

“My dear, I never get my hands dirty.” She took another sip.

I leaned forward. That ship had been my home once. I was still struggling with knowing it was now only floating debris. “But you did give the order.”

“There was someone on board I needed to kill.” She set her mug down with a clink. “Nothing personal, just part of a business transaction.”

“You blew up a ship for a ‘business transaction’?” I wanted to punch the woman, but she was holding my friends hostage in the other room. (Wait, were those people really my friends?)

“This is not why I called you here,” Pam said.

I wasn’t ready to let any of this drop. This woman was a mass murderer. “And you ordered the missiles fired when we were leaving Vander’s Edge.”

“My dear, those weren’t intended for you,” Pam said. “Now, let’s get back to that case.”

“You got it back.” I crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to point fingers at her for orchestrating attempts on my life, starting with the explosives on my last shuttle. What about those people who’d constantly followed me? I could have gone on.

“As I suspect you are aware, the case contained a map to Old Earth,” she said.

It was my turn to shrug. “The ‘top secret’ data drives were all there.”

“Let me see if I can explain this better.” Pam tapped her finger against her chin as she surveyed the room. She smiled, her warm eyes twinkling with false grandmotherly kindness. “You see, lovey, those data drives were for a completely different project.”

“That was it. There wasn’t anything in there containing the map,” I said.

Pam nodded. “How about I shoot that girl in the other room? Would that change your answer?”

My gut churned. A military TUD unit would follow Pam’s orders without question.

“And after her, your former lover.” Pam sipped her tea as if we were discussing which nibblie to try next.

Trying to act calm, I sighed and pulled off my goggles. I needed to protect them from what I was about to do; they had recorded Pam’s every word. I slipped them in my shielded pocket.

“What do you say?” Pam asked, as though inviting me to a Sunday brunch.

“There was nothing else in the case, I swear.” There was the Hank the Hippo notebook, but that hardly counted as a star map. Besides, for the first time in years, I didn’t have it with me.

I slipped my hand in my other pocket and grabbed my Emerg-Blast as I stared into Pam’s eyes.

She opened her mouth as I squeezed the activation button, sending a wave of electricity rippling outward (or something like that; I wasn’t exactly sure how the physics worked). I shoved the table into Pam while hoping the blast range was enough to deal with the TUD units.

Pam’s chair toppled over, and she sprawled on the ground. Without hesitating, I sprinted to the other room.

The three TUD units stood motionless, resembling wax statues prepped for display. Pam’s drones seemed to have vanished without a trace. I had no time to ponder. I had to act quickly.

“We gotta go,” I said.

The TUD units would soon reboot, and the Emerg-Blast wouldn’t have enough charge to use again.

Norman and Haoyu jumped to their feet.

“Where’s Pam?” Haoyu asked, surging to the kitchen.

I lunged forward and grabbed his arm with a viselike grip. “We have no time!” I shouted.

Vi stood still, her eyes fixed on me as if Medusa had struck. But there was no time for questions or explanations; if we didn’t move now, it would be too late.

“You too,” I said to her. “We need to get the hell out of here before they reactivate.” I pointed to the robots. As if on cue, one twitched.

Vi nodded and bolted for the door with Red in her wake.

We burst into the bright sunlight as the tiny drones started buzzing around our heads. To my surprise they weren’t armed, but they could call the TUD units once they reactivated.

“I’m sure she’s got people here with her too,” Haoyu said as we followed Vi to the next house.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Vi whispered, her face contorted with rage. “Why didn’t you give her the damn map?” I could almost feel the heat of her anger radiating from her as we stepped behind the house.

A drone got close to my face, and I batted it away. It smashed into the wall and slid to the ground, at which point I stomped on it.

“Why in the hell would you think I had the map when you were offering to sell it?” I snorted.

“Are the Joneses home?” Red asked as she caught up with us. I assumed she was referring to the neighbours.

Vi continued forward. “No, they’ve gone off world.”

“Um, one of the TUD units has reactivated,” Norman said from where he’d been watching around the corner.

“Move, move, move,” I said.

“To the garage.” Vi broke into a sprint.

The unlocked garage door suggested a trusting community; it was supposed to be a utopia, after all. We piled in and closed the door behind us.

I surveyed my surroundings, looking for an easy solution. The garage was a mess; tools and gear filled nearly all the space around a single hover car.

“It’s me Pam wants,” I said.

“Oh, I think she wants me dead too,” Haoyu added.

My heart racing, I stared at him. “I can create a distraction, and the rest of you can run away.” I reached for the heavy wrench on the workbench, already planning what I might do.

“That’s noble shit,” Vi said. From her tone, I couldn’t tell if she approved.

“Here.” I pulled out my goggles and handed them to Haoyu. “Your sister admitted to a bunch of crimes, and I recorded everything. Go to the authorities.”

A bang sounded on the door.

“Take the hover car and get going.” I pointed at the green open-top vehicle. It was foolish to hope a TUD unit or two wouldn’t pursue the car. I’d have to make a hell of a good diversion. As Vi, Red, and Haoyu got in the car, I looked around again. There was a can of oil, but I didn’t want to set some stranger’s house on fire.

Norman stood beside me.

“Get in the car,” I said.

“I’m going to help you with this diversion,” he said. “By getting on that.” He pointed to what I’d thought was a sheet tossed over another workbench.

“Fine, get ready. I’m opening the door.”

“I’ll go first,” Norman said to the group in the car. He pulled back the sheet to expose an old-fashioned wheeled dirt bike. I crossed my fingers as he started it, hoping it was charged and would go somewhere. “I’m good.” He nodded, and I opened the garage door.

A TUD unit launched toward us. Swinging the wrench, I smashed its metallic face in a shower of sparks while Norman raced by on the bike.

For a second the robot seemed confused, but then its algorithms told it to chase the bike. It sprinted off.

“Go,” I yelled at the car.

With Vi at the controls, it lurched forward. She turned in the opposite direction from Norman. I didn’t see a TUD unit chase after them. That left two for me.

Chapter 44

Darla — Present day

Panic rose in me as I watched the hover car speed away. I was on my own now, and I needed to come up with some action-hero shit to save the day. I’d never managed to pull off that kinda thing before.

“Focus,” I said to myself as I surveyed the space a third time. The dim lights didn’t help. I needed an advantage in what was about to transform into a battlefield. But what could possibly defeat military-grade robots?

“That might work,” I said as I spotted it.

A rolling tool cart was set against the back wall of the garage—the expensive kind, overdesigned for use in an urban garage. Best of all, the cart was made of metal. I gave it a slight nudge, confirming the wheels rolled without resistance.

My heart pounded like a drum as I crouched behind the tool cart, hoping the metal was of a decent quality to provide cover. I took deep breaths to calm myself and debated making up a religion on the spot just to have someone to pray to.

A drone’s entrance broke the tense silence, its high-pitched whine slicing through the air as it began its methodical search. I held my breath, listening to its movements, my body coiled and ready to strike. The sound of its whirring blades grew closer, filling the room with a mechanical buzz that set my already frayed nerves on edge.

When it seemed to be facing the far wall, I took a quick peek. I recognized the model; it was basic, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring into action.

Timing was everything. I waited for the drone to turn, exposing its blind spot. As it shifted direction, I sprang from my hiding place with all the force of pent-up adrenaline. My hand gripped the wrench tightly, and my arm swung with a precision born of desperation.

The wrench connected with the drone with a resounding thud, metal clashing against metal. The drone staggered in the air, its whine faltering, before plummeting to the ground with a final, definitive crash. It lay there, a heap of defeated technology, never to move again.

There was no doubt now—they knew exactly where I was. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I reminded myself I was as tough as nails and almost believed it.

A few seconds later, a TUD unit appeared in the driveway. Beside it stood Pam. For the first time, she looked angry, as if she might harm me instead of offering a hug. I swallowed. One TUD unit remained unaccounted for.

“You need to give me that map,” Pam said as the TUD unit advanced into the garage.

“I told you I don’t have it, and I never did.”

With a burst of energy, I thrust the tool cart at the TUD unit, its metal frame clanging against the robot’s body. I bolted for the back door without hesitation, the collision’s echo ringing in my ears.

As expected, the second TUD unit lay in wait, its mechanical form blocking my escape. It lunged, its cold, metallic hand latching on to my jacket. The robot grabbed my arm, gripping the fabric, not my flesh. I unzipped my jacket—my favourite jacket—and peeled away at a sprint.

As I ran I was shocked to find my body wasn’t as fit as I thought. (What the hell! I’d spent a lot of time on space-based exercise equipment; that should have been the same as open terrain, right?) I was gasping for air within a hundred meters, while my lungs screamed for mercy. My heart thudded in my chest, and sweat trickled down my forehead. Damn it! I didn’t dare look to see if either robot was on my tail, but I assumed they were.

My legs felt like lead, each step a monumental effort as I pushed my body beyond its comfortable limits. The thought of the TUD units in pursuit spurred me on, fear and adrenaline mixing in a potent cocktail that drove me forward.

I dared not glance back. The mental image of the relentless robots pursuing me was enough to fuel my flight. The sounds of my laboured breathing and pounding footsteps drowned out any signs of pursuit, but there was no way I could outrun a TUD unit.

When I couldn’t keep my pace up for another second, I slowed down and jumped into a ditch on the side of the road. Cool water reached my knees as I tried to slip out of sight. The mud clung to my clothes. At least I could count on military-style TUD units to be stupid. Hopefully they were waiting for Pam to give them instructions.

Staying low in the ditch, I continued moving away from the house while trying to slow my breathing. A field of some sort of grain stretched beside me. The crop wasn’t tall enough to conceal me if I stood to run through it. I had no alternative but to remain in the ditch.

A little farther on, a small structure straddled the ditch—a pump house, I assumed. I headed toward it.

A buzzing noise echoed above me, and I looked up to see two of Pam’s drones circling. I knew if they spotted me, I was in serious trouble.

“Shit.” I sprinted to the pump house, hoping a solution might present itself there. I was wrong.

Chapter 45

Darla — Present day

Desperation clawed at me as I reached the pump house, only to find it sealed shut, its flimsy structure offering no real protection. I reasoned that Pam didn’t want me dead—not yet, anyway—as long as she thought I had her map.

But that sliver of hope did little to ease my mounting panic. Against my better judgement, I glanced back. The sight of the two TUD units methodically advancing sent a shiver down my spine. They moved with a chilling, mechanical precision, their presence exuding a palpable threat. Menace radiated from them.

“Shit!” My voice trembled. I sprinted away, my legs pumping faster than before, though I knew deep down it was a futile attempt to outrun machines designed for relentless pursuit.

The sound of crunching gravel behind me signalled another presence. My heart leaped to my throat. I didn’t dare look, instead focusing every ounce of waning strength on increasing my speed. My lungs burned, my muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed on.

The gravel crunched louder, closer. Whoever—or whatever—was behind me was gaining ground. I kept running, my mind racing with potential escape routes, each one seeming more improbable than the last.

I pushed myself harder, my breath ragged, the sounds of pursuit growing ever louder. The realization I might not make it, that my efforts might be in vain, gnawed at me. But I couldn’t give up.

“Darla!” It was Norman. For the first time in my life, I was happy to see him. “Get on.”

He stopped his bike next to me, and I hopped on. Wrapping my arms around him was way too intimate, but I did it anyway. Before I had fully gripped on, he shot off like a rocket.

I glanced back. The third TUD unit had joined the other two, and the trio ran toward us in a row across the road.

“Shit!” I cursed as panic rose in my chest. My vocabulary had been reduced to a single word. I swallowed.

“What’s the plan?” Norman asked.

I looked at the road. The gravel track ended about two hundred metres ahead. Did that mark the boundary of the force field surrounding this location? The train had slowed to pass through it before. Maybe, just maybe…

“We get off the bike at the end of the road,” I said. “And abandon it.”

He shook his head and argued, “This bike could take us cross-country. Trust me!”

“Trust me on this.”

“Fine, but I’m not abandoning the bike!”

My senses heightened as we approached the end of the road, making me aware of every sound, every movement. Norman brought the bike to a halt with barely a pause, and I was off it in an instant. My feet hit the ground with a thud, sending a jolt up my legs.

Whirling around, my eyes confirmed our worst fears. The three TUD units were closing in, their relentless pursuit a testament to their one-track programming. I glanced at Norman.

“What now?” he asked, his gaze shifting between me and the approaching robots.

“Now we walk,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos of my thoughts. How far was the barrier? We had to be close. We walked away from the road. Norman pushed the bike beside me.

Around us the landscape contained flat, fallow fields, offering little in the way of cover or concealment. The TUD units at our backs made every step a race against time—one we were at risk of losing.

The barrier had to be close, the invisible line that marked our temporary salvation (so I hoped). My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a loud drum in my ears.

Norman’s decision to keep the bike was a hindrance. He pushed it through the rough terrain, his jaw set in a grim line as if he was trying to hide how much his recently repaired arm hurt. With each step, I debated telling him to abandon it.

Three more paces on, my skin pricked, and a blue glow formed around me. “Stop here.”

I turned. The TUD units continued to accelerate as they crossed the terrain. Were they going fast enough? Somehow I still held the wrench.

“Do we go now?” Norman’s voice wavered.

The TUD units were still fifty metres away.

“Not yet.” I swallowed. I was about to take a huge gamble with our lives. For a moment I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I had Hank the Hippo at my side—an impossible hope as Haoyu had my goggles.

When I opened them, the TUD units were only fifteen metres away. In unison they broke into a final sprint.

“Now!”

Norman and I turned and walked through the barrier. As the blue glow vanished, a wall of sulphur stench hit us. The terrain changed to the planet’s normal sickly green.

“Keep going,” I said as I strode toward the unappealing swamp ahead. Norman pushed his motorcycle at my side.

Behind us a loud thud sounded, and I caught sight of two blue flashes as I turned. At least two of the TUD units had been going too fast for the barrier.

But the third TUD hadn’t fallen for my trick. It slowed down to cross, emerging through the barrier only a few metres from me. My fingers closed around the wrench, raising it in front of me as if it were a sword.

“Stop!” the robot demanded, pointing its blaster at me.

“Tell Pam I know where the map is,” I said, trying to buy some time.

“I will bring you to her.” The robot pulled the trigger.

The bolt of light hit the wrench, knocking me backward, but I managed to keep hold of it.

“Come on,” Norman said. He was on the bike now. He extended his hand to me as he came close.

I took it and was on the back of the bike for a second time. Did I mention how much I hated being on motorcycles? And we didn’t even have bloody helmets.

Chapter 46

Darla — Present day

Norman and I sped over the native flora of this world, including the slime molds those scientists thought were sentient. Sticky goo splattered all over me, probably thinking how much it hated motorcycles too. But that wasn’t my main concern; it was the remaining TUD unit I needed to keep my focus on.

I twisted around. The stupid robot was still following us (no surprise there).

“Where do we go?” Norman shouted without looking back.

The muddy, slime mould–infested landscape stretched all the way to the horizon. I had no idea which way was best, so I stayed silent. We were heading deeper into uncharted territory, and the TUD unit remained on our heels.

We went over a bump, and a glob of goo splattered in my mouth that didn’t taste good. (It probably didn’t like being in my mouth either.) I spat it out and wished I had my goggles—then I could call the shuttle and get a ride out of this mess.

As if Tud had read my mind, my ugly shuttle swooped down and flew parallel to us. The airlock door stood open, and Haoyu leaned out.

“Grab on!” Haoyu yelled, reaching his hand as the bike skidded close to a pool.

I hesitated for a split second, knowing full well the risk of the maneuver. In a reckless moment, I released Norman and reached for Haoyu, holding the wrench tightly in my other hand. Our fingers brushed, a fleeting connection before chaos erupted.

The bike hit an unseen dip and plunged into the murky pool. In that harrowing instant, everything spiralled into chaos. Norman and I were catapulted from the bike, our bodies flung in the air with terrifying force. I had a momentary sensation of weightlessness, a surreal perception that abruptly ended as I tumbled into the murky depths. The viscous liquid enveloped me, dragging me into its suffocating embrace. Somewhere along the way, I dropped my wrench.

Both hands now free, I thrashed, desperate to break the surface. The liquid filled my mouth, its taste foul. My lungs screamed for air as I flailed around. In a stroke of luck, my boots found the bottom. I pushed off with all the strength I had left, propelling myself up. Bursting through the surface, I gasped for air, coughing and sputtering.

My vision swam as I wiped the goo from my eyes. I scanned the landscape, and a chill ran down my spine. The military TUD unit stalked ominously toward us.

Tud had landed the shuttle on slightly higher ground a short way off—far enough I couldn’t expect help right away. (Besides, none of them was armed either.)

“Wait, where’s Norman?” My voice sounded oddly out of place, tiny and helpless.

Panic raced through me as I searched the murky depths. Norman was nowhere in sight, and he was running out of time. My heart thundered in my chest. I waded through the water, my hands probing the opaque liquid, desperate to find him.

I climbed into the pool with the dirt bike, then realized Norman was trapped under it. With only sticky mud to stand on, I used all my strength to shift the bike. A series of pops traveled up my back. I knew I’d be in pain for weeks, but I kept at it. I had abandoned him once and wasn’t about to do it a second time.

I lunged for the handlebars, the weight of the bike threatening to pull me under. The tires, coated in slimy algae, offered little grip as I heaved against the heavy frame. Gritting my teeth, I pushed with all my might, feeling the bike gradually shift off Norman.

I sensed him searching for a foothold in the slippery sludge beneath us. The struggle was exhausting, our movements hampered by the algae-coated tires and the unforgiving mud.

“Come on, Norman!” I grunted, pushing harder against the bike. My muscles screamed in protest, the pain in my back flaring with each exertion. But there was no time for relief now; it was a fight for survival.

“Darla Oswiu,” Pam’s TUD said from the edge of the pond.

“Well, shit.” I turned to face the bloody robot. Somehow it had lost its blaster. Whoever had programmed it hadn’t accounted for a cross-country chase.

“Sod off.” I shifted my weight and lifted again.

“Meat bags are nothing but trouble,” Tud said as it waded into the pool, its pale blue and orange colouring a stark contrast to the landscape. I could have hugged it there and then.

Tud grabbed the other side of the bike, and we lifted it enough that Norman could struggle free.

Norman burst out of the water, gasping for air.

“I wanted to stay on the shuttle, away from this.” Tud gestured to the slimy water around us. “This is going to take weeks to get out of my circuitry.” It pointed at me. “You might get stuck with an expensive repair bill.”

“Darla Oswiu,” Pam’s TUD said again. Its tone had shifted to pouty.

Beside me, Norman coughed.

“Can you deal with that?” I pointed to the other TUD unit.

Tud swung its steel gaze to the android before refocusing on me. “No. I will drag the other meat bag to the ship.” It grabbed Norman’s arm and began hauling him off as if carrying an adult man was no more effort than hefting a bag of potatoes.

I looked at the military-grade TUD and snorted. It lifted a foot as if to step toward me, then paused.

“Hate the mud, do you?” I asked, taunting the machine.

“Darla Oswiu,” it responded again.

“Come and get me!” I stepped back and maneuvered so the submerged bike was between us.

The robot hesitated, appearing to ponder its next move, its mechanical mind processing a million different scenarios at once. My foot connected with something hard beneath the murky water, and I crouched down. I groped around until I found it—my wrench. What were the odds?

The robot finally decided it was waterproof and stepped into the pool.

“Did Pam program you only for space-station thug-ness?” I asked. Long Enterprises was based on Indigo Station, after all.

It ignored me, taking more tentative steps into the water. Then it tripped over the bike.

The moment it lost balance, I pulled the wrench out of the murk and swung it. My blow landed on its head. The robot tipped sideways into the water.

Still gripping my weapon tightly, I scrambled away from the water’s edge.

The robot flailed under the combined weight of mud and the submerged bike, but I didn’t stay to witness its struggle; instead I sprinted to the shuttle like a wild animal driven by an intense fear of being caught. (Cowardice is my natural state, after all.)

Tud was at the ready. As soon as I stepped into the airlock, the shuttle lifted off.

Ignoring the scummy water pooling at my feet, I closed the outside door and proceeded in.

Norman sat on the edge of the banquet seat, still coughing. Haoyu stood beside him. Vi and Red sat side by side on the other side of the table, both looking at me with the same dark, almond-shaped eyes. (How had I not noticed earlier that Red looked just like her mother?)

“We made it,” I said, mostly because everyone was looking at me, seeming to expect me to say something.

Norman coughed, then laughed. Everyone else broke out laughing as well.

“I submitted the conversation you had with my sister to the authorities,” Haoyu said. “Her admission of guilt on the destruction of the Garden Princess alone should be enough to put her away for a long time.”

“That puts you in charge of Long Enterprises,” I said.

Haoyu nodded.

“You’ll be mopping up for some time,” Vi said.

Haoyu sighed. “Cleanup will be a challenge.” His eyes met mine, and I looked down at myself. Globs of the hopefully-not-sentient slime mould covered me from head to toe.

“I need a shower, but first I have to talk to Tud.” I walked to the cockpit, careful not to leave a mess on the controls. The terrain of GX-41 extended in all directions out the window. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave the atmosphere.”

“I promised to return to GX-41 and speak to your ‘human’ authorities,” Tud said. At least it had moved beyond calling us meat bags for the moment.

“Thank you for coming for us.”

“One of your companions called me,” it said.

“Haoyu?”

“I don’t know. You all look alike.”

I could just see the town on the horizon now, its metal-and-glass buildings glinting in the sunlight.

Chapter 47

Hakkun — 723 years ago

Hakkun stared at his console. Emptiness threatened to consume him. He swallowed and reminded himself he’d be off shift in an hour—then he could spend some time with Minjun. The boy needed him, and he needed to stay bound to the present for that. But now he had to focus on plotting their course. He studied the stars on his screen. The ship was headed for a series of worlds that neither he nor Minjun would live to see.

“Heads up,” Julia whispered beside him.

Just as Hakkun looked up, the captain approached.

“Is our course plotted?” he asked in a tone that suggested he expected the work to be done.

Hakkun pointed to his screen. “Yes, I’m done. This is the optimal course.”

“Are you absolutely certain that is our best course?” the captain asked, and for once he seemed willing to defer to Hakkun’s expertise.

“I’ve already had the ship’s AIs confirm it.” Hakkun didn’t want to leave Earth anymore, not without Sonya, but the captain refused to let anyone on the generation ship disembark. Hakkun once again forced his thoughts to what was best for his son.

The captain nodded, unaware of Hakkun’s turmoil. “Upload it to the system.”

Hakkun did just that as the captain returned to his command chair.

“Open a channel to the ship,” he ordered as he grabbed the armrests.

“Channel open,” said someone on the other side of the bridge.

“Fellow travellers,” the captain started. “In a few minutes, our journey will begin. We’ll be leaving behind the chaos of our home world for a new one—a better one.”

The captain continued, but Hakkun tuned him out. Instead he continued staring at the star chart. Connections between red dwarfs, nebulas, black holes, and binary systems started forming in his head. The image felt like it was being etched into his memory, but then his memory had always been good with spatial diagrams.

Julia elbowed him.

“We must remain resolute as there is no going back. To that end, our ship’s AIs will comb all internal systems. All star charts will be deleted. Future generations won’t have to grapple with uncertainty, as their course will be plotted.” The captain made a gesture to shut down the channel.

“What?” Hakkun whispered to Julia. The captain couldn’t possibly have meant they’d delete all records of how to find Earth. That was insane.

“I think that was his plan all along,” Julia replied in a low tone.

“Shit.” Hakkun bit his lip and stared at the star chart he’d mapped one last time.

The captain paced to the front windows. The curve of Earth and its bubble of atmosphere were visible in the lower half.

“Enact ‘Steadfast Resolve,’” the captain ordered.

“The program is released,” someone on the other side of the bridge said.

Hakkun leaned into Julie. “This isn’t going to erase our personal records, right?” He had several data drives full of star charts on his personal server. He swallowed as his hands became clammy.

Julia sighed. “The AIs have access to everything. It was in the small print of our joining instructions.”

“Oh.” Hakkun looked back to his screen and the star charts plotted there. If they were turning everything over to the AI, he probably would lose them too. Would they even need him? What would he do with his time? He swallowed. How would anyone from Earth follow? How would Sonja ever find them?

Hakkun discovered soon enough they didn’t need him; he was fired at the end of his shift. Apparently he was to work in food production now. He’d said he liked to garden in his application, but gardening to him meant tending a few rose bushes, not the responsibility of growing what they needed to survive.

Shoulders slumped, he entered his habitat pod. Dimmed lights greeted him along with the whiffs of a long-finished spicy meal—a homey scent. In the dark courtyard, he paused and took a deep breath. The late night silence wrapped around him. Despite everything, Minjun had a future here. They would make it work. Minjun deserved it.

He entered their shared quarters. The fort remained in the living room, occupying most of the space. It was where he and Minjun had been sleeping since they arrived.

Taking care to be as quiet as possible, Hakkun changed into his pajamas, then crouched down. He lifted a corner of the fort. The twinkling lights made the low space seem cozy and inviting, and Minjun was already there.

“Daddy?” the boy said, awake despite the late hour.

“I’m here.” Hakkun crawled in and lay beside his boy. “I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

Minjun nodded. He had his notebook open and was drawing another picture of their family. This time he and Hakkun were tiny faces on a spaceship, while Sonja stood on a planet, waving. Hakkun swallowed a lump in his throat as he set the notebook aside.

“Fatima said we’re leaving Earth now.” Minjun’s eyes were wide.

“It’s true.”

“But Mom hasn’t made it to us yet.”

“I know, love.” Hakkun steadied himself. This was a conversation he’d had with Minjun several times now. “There’s been no word from her. A lot of people died when the space elevator collapsed…” His words trailed off.

“So she isn’t coming?”

“No, she isn’t.” The words broke Hakkun’s heart.

“But she’ll follow us if she can, right?”

“Of course she will.”

“Someday I want to go back and find her,” Minjun said.

Hakkun just smiled.

“Fatima said the computers are gobbling up all the maps and that we’ll never be able to return to Earth. But you have maps, right?”

Hakkun sighed.

Minjun put a hand on his father’s. “Right?” The boy’s eyes were like dark liquid pools that bored into Hakkun’s soul.

Hakkun fought tears for his lost wife; he needed to stay strong. Minjun was his world now.

“I’ll make sure there’s a map to guide you back to Earth.”

“Do you pinky promise?”

Hakkun nodded. He raised his hand and wiggled the littlest finger. “I promise.”

Minjun smiled. “Then when I’m big enough, I’ll go back for Mom. We’ll be a family once more.”

Hakkun put a hand on Minjun’s shoulder. “I look forward to that day. Now, it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

After Minjun dozed off, Hakkun opened the notebook. It was full of pictures of their family. Over three-quarters of the book was filled with Sonja’s radiant face. How would they go on without her? A single tear slid down his cheek. The least he could do was keep his promise.

Hakkun knew his memory wouldn’t last, but it had been only a few hours since he’d last seen the star charts—and he’d been looking at them for days before that.

He picked up a pencil and started drawing out their path to the new worlds.

Chapter 48

Darla — Present day

“So…” I said, letting the thought trail off.

On a low stone wall at the edge of the main town on GX-41, Vi and I sat side by side for the first time in almost two decades. The mudflats stretched to the horizon as the scorching sun bore down on us, yet neither of us made a move to leave.

As I remembered our past, more and more unresolved emotions welled up—emotions I didn’t know what to do with. Why was dealing with shit so hard? I swallowed. Seeing Vi again had brought a lot of closure for me, but also it was clear neither of us was the person we were seventeen years ago.

“Are you heading back to the Habitat?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Vi nodded. “My life is there.” She smiled, her dimples exactly as I remembered. “There’s even a group of us working on a virtual train museum.”

“That sounds like the perfect project for you.” My anger at her had faded. To be honest I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

“Norman and Haoyu are leaving soon in the Long Enterprises shuttle.” Vi gestured to the sleek shuttle parked next to mine. “Protectorate forces took Pam away a few hours ago.”

“So it’s all sorted then,” I said.

“Just one more thing. I have a favour to ask of you.”

I raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Really?”

“Red has decided to go to the university on the Blue Moon Colony,” Vi said. “Will you take her there?”

“You’re okay with letting her go?” According to Red, Vi hated the idea of her daughter going so far away.

Vi shifted her gaze to the horizon. “I think it is well past time for her to make those decisions. Besides, as she has pointed out, there’s not much for her here.”

I decided to play the devil’s advocate. “What about the university at Seven Soaring Swans? That’s so much closer, and—”

Vi put up her hand. “She needs to go where she chooses. Besides, the program at Blue Moon University is perfect for her.”

“In that case I’m happy to take her,” I said.

“Good. I’d take her, but I need to smooth things over with the Habitat’s council. Besides, Red likes you.”

“Then tell her we’ll leave in the morning.”

Vi stood and took a step away from me, her gaze downcast and her shoulders tense. She paused for a moment as if debating whether to say something. She let out an exasperated sigh.

“It’s been nice to see you again. I wish things had turned out differently between us.”

My breath caught in my throat, and a million words formed on the tip of my tongue that I wanted to say but couldn’t. All I could manage was a weak response. “I wish that too.”

She nodded, and without another word, she turned away and began walking to the train station.

I left the toy train for Vi at the local shop. They promised they’d hand it to her the next time she came in.

A week later, after dropping Red at Blue Moon University (and checking out the safety of the place for my own peace of mind), I set a course for the nearest gate.

“Where are we going?” Tud asked in a disapproving tone, which seemed to be his normal mode.

I shrugged. For the first time in a long time, I had no plan. The only logical thing I could think of was to drop in on Theo65 (and maybe Norman and Haoyu too). “Let’s go to Indigo Station.”

Tud made a sound like a snort.

“While we’re there, we could get you a new paint job.” I pointed to a chipped section on its torso where the orange and baby blue paint was gone, leaving only grey primer.

“No,” it said.

I almost laughed. “Well, that’s up to you.” I headed to the other compartment.

Alone at last, I pulled my backpack from the storage compartment and retreated to the banquet seat. I activated my Hank the Hippo companion and smiled as the hippo sat like a dog at the end of the table, its snout at my head height and cute little ears twitching.

With care, I removed the notebook from its sleeve. It had been a while since I’d looked at it, so I opened it to the first page. As always, the child’s drawings drew me in—fantastical scenes of spaceships and stars, and in each one a smiling woman with yellow hair watched over everything.

I left the notebook in the middle of the table to start a pot of coffee. Once it was ready, I returned to the table with a full mug.

The family depicted was adorable—mother, father, and child. I slowly flipped through the pages.

“Do we really have to go to Indigo Station?” Tud called from the front.

I jumped, and the notebook fell out of my hand and onto its front. In the flap of pages, something seemed different at the end.

“We are going to Indigo Station,” I shouted back.

“Fine.”

I flipped to the back of the notebook. The pictures there were done with a child’s tools, but clearly they weren’t done by a child.

As I stared at the intricate map of stars, a surge of excitement coursed through my veins, causing my heart to race. Goose bumps prickled my skin, and a shiver ran down my spine. The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve in my body.

“Wait,” I whispered.

With trembling hands, I continued tracing the looping path, my finger gliding over the paper. Every twist and turn seemed to whisper secrets of a forgotten path. The course through the stars led me on an extraordinary journey.

Then my eyes fixed on the origin, labeled as ‘Earth.’ My breath caught in my throat, and a mix of wonder and disbelief washed over me.

I’d had it all along.

Acknowledgments

I wanted a book featuring a main character who was older, a curmudgeon and secretly a decent person. Yeah, she had things in her past to atone for, but she also ends up doing the good thing. From there this book developed (in a non-linear fashion as all my books do).

As always it was the help I got along the way that made this book into what it is. First of all, thank you to Christine Astle for being kind enough to provide feedback on early drafts. Next, I’d like to thank Charlie Knight and Sally Glover for helping me form my rambling ideas into a novel.

I’d also like to thank everyone who supported the Kickstarter for this book as this allowed me to make this one my best one yet.

Finally, to Gavin and Anna for giving me time to write and enduring hearing me talk about it.

About the Author

By day I'm a scientist, by night I write science fiction. I have hard drives clogged with ideas and outlines—sometimes they dissolve into ones and zeros, but sometimes they coalesce to form an entire novel. My stories are filled with action and adventure where something tends to blow up, usually in the first fifty pages.

To get news on new releases, free short stories and a peak into my world sign up for my newsletter here - https://jeannettebedard.com/

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