“I will.” Actually, I couldn’t wait to get started.
Amber’s voice echoed in my head. Nerd.
Zhang’s voice interrupted my scrolling. “Will you require further guidance this summer, or is self-study a sufficient method of learning for you?”
“Self-study is fine for me,” I answered him. “But thank you for showing me these resources today, and for assessing my grade level.”
“Gratitude is unwarranted,” Zhang informed me, completely monotone. For a minute, I wondered if Alpha scientists had created a super-advanced android and transferred me in just to test his social skills.
“Well, thanks anyway.” I shouldered my backpack, grabbed my prism, and stood up, hands in the pockets of my hoodie. “If you want to hang out again sometime, you know where to find me.”
“A question.” Zhang stood and faced me. “Judging by your knowledge and intellectual capacity, you clearly belong here. Why have you only arrived now?”
As soon as I heard the word “belong,” I stood up a little straighter. “I lost my sister within the Terran system. After that, I had no reason to stay.”
Silently pondering that, Zhang stood, as still as the pillar beside him. “Where is your sister?”
“I don’t know.”
Looking over one shoulder and then the other, Zhang took a step towards me.
“Do you wish to?”
I swallowed. “More than anything.”
Zhang’s eyes hardened. “Then continue searching.”
Chapter 8
Makin’ my way downtown, I thought to myself, humming a tune to match the old Terran literary reference. Smiling, I felt the air’s resistance against my face with each quiet step I took on the walkway.
The walks transported me down the long, broad hallway from the accommodations area to the library. My mind shifted in and out of focus. After 14 years, the route was automatic.
I fingered the paper in my dress pocket, feeling my stomach tighten again. After 14 years of living on Alpha, could there still be a mystery to unravel? Somehow, the tiny scrap in my hand felt foreign, an intruder determined to destroy my way of life.
Could I really have missed such a large discrepancy, all these years?
I shifted my focus back to the route. The library sign loomed overhead, and my stomach relaxed again. In just a few minutes, I knew, I’d be running down 12 flights of stairs toward the laboratory, the comfort zone of all my comfort zones.
There, with them, I could get this sorted out. I was sure it would all turn out to be a dramatic misunderstanding.
Hopping off the walk, I crossed the threshold dividing the silver metal of the hallway from the clean, white tile of the library.
The large, vertical screens in the center of the library flickered to life as my prism emitted a short, high note, followed by a long, low tone. I tapped on my prism to design and place a rounded white bench against the wall beside me, then hurried to sit down as the news update began.
“Good evening, Station Alpha, and welcome to our five o’clock broadcast,” smiled Maurice, her face protruding from an extremely white blazer. Far too many screens surrounded me. I was trapped in a Maurice prison. I tapped my foot, counting down the five minutes of the broadcast.
“Our featured story, of course, is still the arrival of our new transfer student, Rowan Miles!” Video clips flashed across the screen, showing Rowan stepping onto a shuttle, tapping a prism, and shaking hands with me before Maurice appeared again. Her metallic eyeshadow glinted as she began to speak.
“After all, it’s not an everyday occurrence for a Terran senior to join us.” Maurice overemphasized both the words Terran and senior, leaving the whole sentence jilted and unbalanced. “So, today, management would like me to repeat just a handful of reminders on how to treat our Terran friends.”
Footage of a shuttle explosion, all greys and oranges and reds, lit up the screen, followed by the faces of Alpha’s Headmaster, then Lindsay Miller, then Gregor Stepanov, then Max. A wave of nausea washed over me.
“First of all, please remember that the unfortunate incidents we’ve witnessed are the work of a small, radicalized group known as Dusk. The majority of Terrans do not participate in these extreme acts of violence against innocent students en route to Alabaster.”
I looked down at my lap and realized my hands were shaking.
“Second, we expect all residents of Alpha and, by extension, all of the Enlightened, to understand the limitations of our transfer students, whether Terran or non-Terran. Transfer students always need time to adjust to our routines, technology, and customs after reassignment, so we urge you not to become impatient or easily offended. Within weeks, after all, our transfers will be nearly indistinguishable from our native students.
“Lastly, we request that you, as Enlightened citizens, offer all available aid and comfort to our new transfers. We want them to enjoy their time here and, eventually, to become fully integrated members of our society. Any efforts you make to ensure that outcome are greatly appreciated by station management.”
My stomach turned at the thought of helping a Terran integrate into Alpha. I was surprised at my own prejudice, and I remembered a time before Max’s deportation when I was far more accepting and open-minded.
Still, I shuddered, the images of Max’s face and the shuttle explosions etched firmly in mind.
The broadcast droned on while I rose, dismantled my bench, and walked towards the stairs in the center of the library.
∆∆∆
“Well, did he look like a terrorist?”
I stared at the live map displayed on the rounded ceiling, mentally tracing the familiar line between Alpha and Earth. Raising one arm above my head, I stretched, long and luxuriously, cradled by the sofa’s cozy fabric beneath me.
The stations above me moved slowly in their orbits. Outside the window, stars twinkled beside a few grey antennae.
Thelma, seated at the last workstation on the left, stopped typing and swiveled around to face me. I realized she was still waiting for an answer.
“I mean, not particularly. I thought he seemed fairly normal.”
A soft, melodic voice came from the opposite side of the room, three workstations over. “Was he cute?”
“Maple, that’s really not the issue here.” Warmth spread across my cheeks. I focused my eyes on the ceiling again, but I was too late: she had already seen my face.
Maple laughed, a pure and joyous sound which perfectly suited that pure and joyous person. “So that’s a yes, then.”
“Whatever. My point is, with Alex and Dana gone, I don’t really have anyone left to look after. And I’m somewhat inclined to keep it that way.”
“To be fair,” a low voice interjected, “Alex and Dana weren’t exactly your responsibility in the first place. None of them were.”
The constant, quiet tapping of styluses on prisms stopped as four pairs of eyes trained on me. Thelma narrowed her eyes at Aaqil.
“I’m aware of that, Aaqil,” I sighed, tilting my head to the side with an exasperated smile. “But it seems unfair that I’m only assigned to reach out to Terran youths. Shouldn’t we take more pride in caring for our own?”
“Ideally,” Aaqil replied, his dark eyes softening in what I’d learned was an expression of sympathy.