Trespassers: a science-fiction novel (12 page)

“
Tobi, we have a problem,
”
he heard Dexim say.

Tobi instinctively turned his towel-clad face to Dexim.

“
The heart-signal tracker isn
’
t working,
”
Dexim continued.
“
It comes on, then dies.
”

Tobi thought about this for a moment, but his towel gave no indication of his thinking.

“
Can you fix it?
”
Dexim asked.

Tobi gave it a few more seconds of thought.
“
I
’
ll have to take a look at it.
”

“
Jin will look at it,
”
Dexim ordered.
“
And he can tell you what you
’
re seeing.
”

Jin
’
s shoulders wilted,
“
I
’
m not good with electronic stuff.
”

“
Just get it done,
”
Dexim commanded as he shoved the device into Jin
’
s hands and stepped out of the room.

Jin had done far more breaking of electronic devices than fixing. It was just a thing that was supposed to work, and if it didn
’
t, he couldn
’
t imagine for the life of him what there was to be done about it. His eyes shifted over to see Tobi sitting up in the tub. Tobi welcomed this challenge. It was going to test his ability to visualize. He would have to paint an exact image in his mind, from the information that Jin would feed him. It was going to be a lot more satisfying than just soaking in a tub.

“
First things first,
”
Tobi said.
“
Is my washcloth still covering my important areas?
”

“
You
’
re good,
”
Jin answered.

“
Perfect,
”
Tobi nodded and shifted his focus to the device.
“
Now we
’
ll need to remove the back cover.
”

“
Right,
”
Jin said, having absolutely no idea how to do that.

“
We
’
ll need my tool kit from the supply bag.
”

Fixing a tracking device
—
or any electronic device for that matter
—
was a simple task for Tobi. He had been tinkering with technology since he could crawl. As a toddler, he had managed to disassemble every electronic toy within reach. His parents had mistaken this for destructive behavior, until he began putting them back together. Then they realized Tobi had a natural skill. Tobi, however, was convinced he
’
d make an excellent athlete. He was determined to try every sport. After spending season after season
trying
, he eventually ran out of sports. Tobi never got comfortable with the idea that he was a bad athlete, but he did settle into the realization that everyone else was better. Around the age of fifteen, he discovered girls and electronics. He had been surrounded by both his whole life, of course, but when he placed first at the robotics fair, and when the red-haired, freckle-faced beauty who placed fifth asked to see his trophy, he was hooked.

Tobi didn
’
t marry that fifth placer. But she introduced him to the wonders of coupledom, and it started him on a path that led to his wife, Novina, whom he met in college. She was a journalism major, and they met when she interviewed him for an article in the college paper. After a brief courtship, the young lovers were wed. The principles of marriage were pretty similar across the universe: each promises to love the other; belongings are shared; a home is made; and a family is forged. Tobi and Novina did not have any kids, yet. But they were looking forward to it. After Tobi
’
s stint in the Royal Expeditionary Armada, they planned to start a family.

Nothing about Tobi would suggest that he belonged in the REA. That suggestion was made by a colleague of Tobi
’
s, who pulled a few strings to get him the appointment. Royal service was necessary to have on one
’
s r
é
sum
é
for true success. Soaking in a bathtub on some distant planet didn
’
t feel like career advancement, but he trusted it would lead to bigger and better things.

When Tobi signed up, he had been promised he would be uplinking remote computer interfaces. Now
that
was interesting work. Why so interesting? Because he had to cross platforms. Each remote base had a different system, and it was his job to create a link between the foreign system and the REA mainframe. This was a tech
’
s dream job. It made you a real Wild West gunslinger
—
not that your average REA tech knew what a Wild West gunslinger was, but that feeling of being the baddest man in town was universal. Somehow, bathtubs and face wraps were never mentioned. Nonetheless, this particular mission
—
if successful, if they could somehow find this girl
—
would catapult his r
é
sum
é
to the top of any stack.

Thump-thump .
.
. thump-thump
. Sara
’
s heart beat beneath her warm skin as she sat in a booth at Ruby
’
s Diner, a throwback to diners of the 1950s. The thump-thump of Sara
’
s heart was not of much concern to the patrons of Ruby
’
s Diner, except perhaps for Jeremy Borden, who sat across from her. He was mesmerized by all of her.

Sara was a petite girl on the cusp of adulthood. She had straight, shoulder-length hair that fell somewhere between brown and blonde, depending on the light; her face was brushed with freckles. Jeremy was freshly eighteen. He had officially been an adult for two weeks, now. He had asked Sara out for lunch, yesterday, while they were both standing in Nathan's Hardware
—
the small, family-owned shop where she had been working for the past eight months. She had seen the invitation coming a mile away. Jeremy had been a frequent visitor to the hardware store over the past few weeks. She got the impression that a few of those trips were specifically to talk to her, which she enjoyed as well.
Would you allow me to take you out to lunch, tomorrow
? He finally asked. His nerves showed in his voice. But she loved the way he phrased it. Not finding any reason to decline, she accepted.

I
’
ll pick you up tomorrow at noon
, he said.

Twelve thirty
, she replied.

An exchange of smiles sealed the deal. Sara hadn
’
t been looking for a date
—
dating was the last thing on her mind. But she was looking for some distraction from her life. A date was as good as any. Now, she was reaching the bottom of her vanilla milkshake. They had agreed that vanilla was superior to chocolate in every way. They had covered such meaningful topics as the proper way to eat french fries, the best method for pouring ketchup, and which sitcoms don
’
t belong on television. They had talked all the way through the meal
—
actually, the conversation had been nonstop since he picked her up. This was exactly the distraction Sara had wanted. It felt like the first time she had laughed in the last eight months, and it probably was
—
at least the first genuine laugh. But watching the last ounces of vanilla milkshake disappear into the straw felt like watching sand running out of an hourglass. Soon, this peaceful interlude would end, and she would return to reality.

“
So, what about you?
”
Jeremy asked.

“
What
about
me?
”
she replied. They had been talking about parents, and Jeremy had explained that he still lived with his, but he was planning to go to DePauw University and would get his own place after he graduated. She wasn
’
t sure whether he was asking about her parents in general or about whether she still lived with them. She didn
’
t have an answer either way.

“
Are you going to college?
”
he clarified.

“
Oh,
”
she breathed a sigh of relief, not because she had an answer, but because it would be an easier question to brush off,
“
I don
’
t know, yet.
”

“
Tell me something about you that nobody else knows,
”
Jeremy said.

Sara
’
s straw rattled against the bottom of the glass, sucking nothing but air. There were a million ways for Jeremy to misread the expression that popped on her face. Fortunately, he read it perfectly: it was conflict.

“
What?
”
Jeremy smiled.
“
What is it?
”

What it was, was something very big. Her whole life could be summed up in a neat little package. She had spent the last eight months summing it up. But she knew she couldn
’
t share that summation with anyone. Now, suddenly, she was considering it. Why had he asked that question? Why couldn
’
t she give him the answer?

“
Do you have a big secret I should know about?
”
he prodded.

“
No.
”
She tried to smile it away, but Jeremy could see there was something hiding under the surface. He nodded out the window to the park in the center of town.

“
Do you want to take a walk?
”
he asked.

“
Yeah,
”
she said, her smile turning into something genuine.

Jeremy had heard that she was from Nova Scotia. He even looked it up on a map: turns out it was in Canada, a lot less exotic than it sounded. He also heard she had been staying with the Nathans, renting a room in their home above the hardware store. The Nathans were a sweet couple in their sixties. When their own children had moved away, they decided to rent out a room. They were very pleased with Sara as a renter. She was polite, tidy, and turned out to be a real help at the hardware store.

Sara veered off the sidewalk and into the grass. Jeremy followed. Larry Greyson Memorial Park was right in the middle of downtown Juniper, surrounded by old buildings that had been restored and converted into modern shops. It was a great place for an afternoon stroll. As they admired the tiny ponds and the winding rows of rose bushes, Jeremy asked whether she planned to stay in Juniper or return to Nova Scotia. She didn
’
t know. He asked what she wanted to do with her life. And once again, she didn
’
t know.

“
Well, what
do
you know?
”
he asked in a way that made her laugh.

“
I wish I knew,
”
she replied. She sat on the edge of a marble slab that formed the base of a statue depicting a galloping horse. Jeremy leaned against the shoulder of the metal horse.

“
So, how old are you?
”
he asked.

That was the straw that broke the camel
’
s back. She couldn
’
t stand to hear herself say
I don
’
t know
one more time. She suddenly became serious.

“
There
’
s something that I should tell you,
”
she said. He saw that conflict in her eyes again.

“
What?
”
he asked, petting the horse as if it were real.

“
I have a certain condition .
.
. I can
’
t remember.
”

“
Is that the condition?
”
he asked.
“
Or are you saying you can
’
t remember the condition?
”

“
That
’
s it,
”
she clarified.
“
I have no memory of anything before eight months ago.
”