Chasing the Stars (13 page)

‘Where were you assigned?’

‘Mum hasn’t assigned me anywhere yet because I was the first to be scanned and registered and then I went to find you,’ I explained. ‘So d’you mind if I join you?’

‘Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing?’ asked Vee.

‘Nope.’

We regarded each other. I needed to persuade her that I wanted for us to be friends – at the very least. I admit it, I found her intriguing. And not least because just she and her brother had survived when the rest of their crew had died. They’d been alone for three Sol years. Three whole years. I don’t know how I would’ve coped under those circumstances. No matter how bad things had got in the past, I’d always had my friends, my mum and the rest of the drones in my corner. So no, she wasn’t going to shake me off that easily. We resumed walking.

‘How did you stop the Mazon from firing on this ship whilst you were rescuing us?’ I asked.

Vee shrugged, then proceeded to tell me how she’d nobbled both the Mazon ships. More than once, my jaw hit the floor but Vee spoke as if it were no big deal. With each sentence my respect for her rocketed. That she’d done all that to save us, people she didn’t know, astounded me. It made my mum’s attempt to take over Vee’s ship seem all the more shabby.

By the time we reached the bridge, I was in awe. ‘That has to be the gutsiest thing I’ve ever heard.’

Vee’s cheeks grew darker as did her earlobes. She was blushing. It made the brown of her skin even more appealing.

‘It wasn’t brave at all,’ she denied. ‘I was scared out of my mind.’

‘If you hadn’t been scared, it wouldn’t have taken any courage to help us,’ I pointed out. ‘D’you know, if you had a sister who’d done all that and we weren’t fleeing for our lives from the Mazon, I’d ask her out for a date on the spot.’

Vee blinked at me, stunned. ‘You would?’

I nodded. ‘In a heartbeat.’

Vee gave me one of her considering looks. ‘What kind of date?’

‘Dinner in the mess hall. Or better yet, dinner in the astro lab sitting in the middle of a 3D star chart,’ I replied.

Damn! Could I make it any more obvious?

‘Sounds lovely. Shame I don’t have a sister,’ Vee said at last.

‘Yeah, a real shame,’ I agreed.

We entered the bridge.

Well, I didn’t expect that reaction! Nathan’s admiration was making not just my face but my whole body burn. Not that I didn’t like it. His admiration, that is. It was kinda flattering, in an embarrassing sort of way. He seemed so genuine and yet . . . why had he told me he and all the others were drones? I would never have guessed. To be honest, it wasn’t just that I’d had nothing to do with drones in the past, but I’d never had any reason to think about them much either. It was just a given that they worked in service. Hell, back at school on Earth, we’d used ‘drone’ as an insult.

‘
Drone brain . . .
’

‘
You cry like a drone . . .
’

‘
Your mother’s a drone . . .
’

And much, much worse.

Now my ship was full of them.

Why had he told me? Surely his life – and mine – would’ve been so much simpler if he’d kept his mouth shut. But Nathan didn’t strike me as someone who’d choose what was easy over what was right. I guess he wanted to explain why they couldn’t return to Earth and needed to get to Mendela Prime. But was that all there was to it? All of Nathan’s friends thought he was a fool to tell me the truth, yet he’d still done it. Why?

I hadn’t quite figured Nathan out yet, but I would.

And what was all that about dating my sister if she’d done the things I’d done? He knew I didn’t have a sister, so why say that? I had to admit, dinner whilst sitting in the middle of a hologram of stars and nebula sounded magical. Why had I never thought to do that before? Ideas like that were part of the beauty of conversing with other people and one of the things I’d missed most over the last few years, but why didn’t Nathan want to do that with me? Or was that his roundabout way of saying that he did? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? I liked him. I mean, I
really
liked him, but I couldn’t assume for a second he felt the same way. I mean, why should he?

My head was spinning like the outer hull of my ship. Hamlet had nothing on me.

Damn! I’d been away from people for far too long.

Back on the bridge, Aidan was sitting in my chair whilst Darren and Commander Linedecker sat at the navigation panel. Two other people – a black man in his forties and a white woman in her early thirties – were huddled around the weapons and tactical panels to the left of the captain’s chair but I had no idea what they were doing. Nor had I any idea where the rest of the colonists were.

‘Aidan? Update please,’ I said as I headed towards him.

Aidan looked pointedly at Darren and Catherine before turning back to me. ‘The refugees have been assigned their quarters. A few have insisted on making themselves useful by going to their stations immediately.’ Aidan nodded in the direction of the man and woman at tactical to illustrate his point. ‘Dooli is in the science lab with the two female children, Simone and Khari. I hope she’ll ensure they don’t break anything.’ ‘Most are in the mess hall. Darren and Commander Linedecker over there are examining our ship’s log to find out as much as they can about us and our ship. They say it’s so they can work out appropriate permanent assignments for our new crew as most of them aren’t specialists, but we all know that’s bull. Sam and Hedda, the two over there at tactical, are also raking through the computer logs. They insist it’s to find out as much as they can about the ship. I did explain that they could do that from any control panel on board and that the science lab on this floor was at their disposal, but they’re still here. I personally think none of them want to leave you or I alone on the bridge. I’m sitting in your chair because if I hadn’t one of them would’ve jumped into it and we wouldn’t have got it back. I recommend we install some kind of ejector mechanism so that if the captain’s chair doesn’t recognize your buttocks or mine seated in it, it shoots the occupant out the door. Would you like me to start working on such a device?’

By the time I’d reached the captain’s chair, I was biting my lip to stop myself from laughing. Aidan stood up to let me sit down whilst the commander glared at him. That was my brother, direct as ever.

‘That won’t be necessary, Aidan,’ I told him.

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ My brother sounded disappointed.

‘Olivia, I believe we got off on the wrong foot,’ said the commander. ‘I’d like us to start again.’

‘I’d like that too,’ I agreed. ‘But I’m still not going to hand over my ship to you.’

A slight pursing of her lips was the only indication of the commander’s annoyance at my words. ‘Fair enough. But I hope you’ll allow me and my colleagues to assist you in any way we can. You’re not alone any more. You don’t need to try and run every facet of this ship’s operations by yourself.’

‘Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind,’ I replied. I turned to my brother. ‘Aidan, you can go and get some sleep if you like.’

He frowned at me. ‘Sleep? No thanks.’

‘Well, it’s my watch now and it’s been a long day. We all need to rest, so don’t leave it too long – OK?’ I smiled at him.

A moment’s pause, then Aidan nodded. As I turned back to the commander, I caught the curious look Nathan directed at me, then at my brother. I’d have to be careful what I said with him around. Nathan was nobody’s fool.

‘Are the Mazon still on our tail?’ I asked Aidan.

‘We appear to have shaken them off for now, but I’ve left the ship on yellow alert,’ said Aidan, adding, ‘we both know they won’t give up quite so easily.’

‘You’ve had run-ins with the Mazon before?’ asked the commander.

Uh-oh . . .

‘Yes,’ I replied.

‘When?’

‘Apart from when we rescued all of you, the last time was over a year ago.’ I cringed at the memory. ‘I ran into one of their exploration patrols travelling in deep space. I barely escaped with my ship and life intact. The time before that was three years ago, a few weeks before all the original crew of this ship died.’

‘Your entire crew died out in the space of a few weeks?’ the commander gasped, aghast. ‘I didn’t realize it had happened so quickly.’

I nodded. She and the others didn’t need to know any more than that. Those memories were not something I liked to dwell on. The external threats I’d encountered since the crew of the
Aidan
had died had been few and far between – an ion storm or two, running into the Mazon patrol, an asteroid belt and escaping the gravity well of a black hole. The rest of the time had been spent trying to get back home.

Meanwhile these people . . . they’d spent years or, in some cases, a lifetime on Callisto. I may not have known much about drones except what I’d been told, but everyone knew about Callisto. Of all of the Authority’s mining colonies on the different moons and planets they controlled, the one on Callisto was by far the most savage. It was the only place in Earth’s solar system where the Aetonella bacteria, species
A. pentadensis
, could be found. The energy these bacteria produced when placed in special fuel cells kept not only my ship but every other Earth vessel made in the last eighty years up and running for decades and beyond. Mining those resources had led to the rise of the Authority’s power and status, until they ruled not just one country but the planet Earth and all the other planets we had colonized since. The only trouble was, Aetonella bacteria lived in rocks deep beneath the surface of Callisto which was icy-cold, back-breaking and hazardous work to excavate. Robots were too expensive to produce and too valuable to lose doing such work – at least, that was the Authority’s party line. But drones? They were ideal for the job and would breed more drones for a fraction of the credits it took to produce a new robot.

I watched Nathan as he stood to the side of his mum and Darren to study the panel they were currently viewing. What must life have been like for him, to be thrown into that world with seemingly no way out? I could only imagine how terrifying it must’ve been. The screens relaying news and programmes from Earth to Callisto must’ve reinforced to the drones just how little they had and how little they were valued. In their shoes I would’ve done whatever I could’ve to escape that moon too. If Callisto was half as terrible as the rumours and Nathan implied, it was more than bad enough. And then to be betrayed by the captain of the transport, followed by being attacked by the Mazon . . .

So far, if it hadn’t been for bad luck then these refugees would’ve had no luck at all.

I still remembered intense, whispered conversations my mum and dad had had with other grown-ups about the Authority when I was much younger. Conversations that had ended abruptly when I entered the room or when they realized I was close enough to overhear. I now knew enough to realize that the Authority weren’t totally benign, and that I was just lucky enough to be on the right side of them. The trouble was, the Authority were all I knew.

To me the Authority meant Earth, and home and life as it once was and as I longed for it to be again. To me the Authority meant safety. I guess home was purely a matter of perspective. Earth was where I belonged. I wanted to see my grandparents and to breathe in air that wasn’t constantly recycled.

Longing . . .

What were all the Callisto refugees on board longing for? And just what might they do if they didn’t get it?

‘Mum, how could you?’

The moment my shift was over, I headed straight for Mum’s room. I had a few things I needed to get off my chest, things I couldn’t say on the bridge. And from the look on Mum’s face when she opened her door, she had a fair to middling idea of what was coming.

‘What choice did I have, Nathan?’

‘You had the choice not to try and take Vee’s ship away from her,’ I replied at once. ‘You had the choice to act like a decent human being.’

‘Too much was at stake to leave to the whim of that girl,’ Mum retorted.

‘That girl?’ I bristled. ‘What does that mean exactly?’

‘It means she’s not one of us, Nathan. It means loyalty begins at home.’