Page 53 of Bound By Stars
On the way, Weslie walks beside me. “I had a thought about ILSA’s plans.”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.
Wes’s lips part and then she clamps her mouth shut as we’re ushered into Navigation, packed tightly around a large table displaying a hologram of specks. Too close to whisper without everyone hearing.
At one edge, Earth is tiny, but clearly blue. On the other end is Mars, the little red planet no larger than a pinhead. A trail of purple dots in consistent intervals track the course to Mars. Behind the blinking ship icon, they are faint. Ahead of it, they shine like tiny beacons. Resupply barges, I assume.
“With the holomap, we’re able to identify potential hazards on our route and map course corrections.” Orion puts his hands together over the map like he’s going to dive into it, then parts them and the area enlarges, zooming in. Space debris takes form. Scattered bits of craggy rock. An asteroid field. He releases the enlarged image and swipes a hand over the table.
TheBoundlesstakes form like a glowing orange line drawing. Orion expands it until it’s the only thing hovering over the surface. He brushes away the top level and pulls the arboretum until it’s the size of a dinner plate. A list of readings for the room glows green in the center. Oxygen levels. Temperature. Humidity. “We can also keep an eye on systems throughout the ship.”
He nods and turns, waving us on.
As the class follows, I tug on Weslie’s wrist. “Tell me your idea. About ILSA’s plans.”
“I was thinking we could animate them. Make them more interactive.”
A broad shoulder slams into mine. “Careful, cousin…” Hale glances at Weslie on my other side. “You know her kind carry disease, right?”
I spin toward him, but Weslie grabs my hand and whispers, “Not worth it, remember?”
“My threat from the pool still stands,” I remind him.
The smug expression falls from his face, and he cuts ahead in the line of students. “Whatever.”
Orion leads us to the bottom of the bridge, through the terminals, and up the other side, delivering a full dissertation on space travel advancement.
The group comes to a stop, meeting up with the second half of the class at the starboard wall.
Sofie guides us all to amphitheater seating. “And this is where we gather for crew meetings and announcements. Please, everyone, take a seat.”
I climb to the top, following Weslie. Curran sits on my other side.
Orion and Sofie take turns explaining the basic tasks they perform to keep the ship running smoothly and then turn to the class for questions.
“What happens to everyone if the ship breaks down? Like the oxygen systems go offline for the entire ship?” someone at the back of the room asks.
I glance at Weslie, my chest tight, but she doesn’t seem to be affected. Like the oxygen being cut to her unit was just a normal part of life. Or maybe she’s just really good at hiding her feelings. Except for anger and annoyance. Those she shares freely.
Sofie and Orion exchange concerned glances.
Orion pastes on a reassuring expression. “Well, that’s incredibly unlikely, but in the event of a major system shutdown, all passengers would be directed to escape pods. There is a first-class bay connected to the living quarters level, second-class bays in the sublevels, and a few pods for the bridge crew just down the hall outside those doors. Plenty of vessels to safely evacuate everyone on board.”
I lower my head and lean toward Weslie so only she can hear. “Aren’t you concerned with who these people, the E.F.E., are?”
“Of course,” she says, staring straight ahead. The dim light brings out the green in her hazel eyes.
I remember the way she looked on the floor of her bedroom when the door opened. Eyes closed. Pale. Unmoving. Before that moment she seemed impervious. Like nothing and no one could ever hurt her, but even her stubbornness can’t beat oxygen deprivation. That fluttering panic I felt when I held her limp body in my arms blooms in my stomach again.
In my memory, she transforms. Short, pale hair matted with blood, instead of Weslie’s dark curls. Burned flesh. Clothing melted to skin. Blood leaking from her mouth and ears. The way Andi looked when they found her, after the explosion. “Maybe you should stay with Asha.”
“Not this again,” she says under her breath.
“But—”
“I have ILSA. I’ll be fine.”
Calypso catches my eye, violently pointing at Weslie and then me, and pantomimes zipping their mouth shut.
