Tundra 37 (35 page)

Mestasis had saved her by murdering her own sister. Gemme stared at the Seer in shock.

Mestasis’s black eye leaked a stream of tears then shut.

Vira’s miniscreen flickered and she smacked it against the floor. The blue liquid in the energy cell had run out an hour ago, and it was her last one.

“Come on, don’t die on me now.” Teachers had temporarily suspended classes until the situation with the
Expedition
stabilized, but when she was stuck learning geometry again, she wanted to have her proofs completed.

Besides, doing homework kept her mind off all her problems. She was sick of not having what she needed: her hoverchair, fresh food, and now energy cells. How were they supposed to live on Tundra 37 without all those things?

She minimized the glow of the screen and her undone proof flashed on. She scanned the last line before the miniscreen powered down and went dead. Guilt came over her as she thought back to all those hours wasted playing Star Quest.

Vira pressed the start panel over and over and nothing happened. Pounding her fist into the floor, she slumped against the wall in her room. Now what was she supposed to do?

“Mo-om!”

No answer. Vira shouted with the full force of her little lungs. Her voice echoed in her room and died away. Mom must have left to take Dad dinner. He never came home anymore, working long hours in the energy core, trying to keep the ship going.

The dim lights flickered around her, the room alternating between blindingly bright and black as deep space. Vira covered her face with her hands. When she pried her palms off, she was plunged into darkness.

“Rizzy?”

Was her sister playing pranks again?

“I know that’s you, so cut it out.”

No answer. She pushed her useless miniscreen off her lap and dragged herself to the kitchen. The carpet left burns on her arms, so she’d developed the technique of anchoring herself with an elbow, then pulling her weight forward arm over arm. Slow but sure. Isn’t that what her teachers had said about the
Expedition
’s progress? Vira was overcome with melancholy. Well, not any more. The ship would never fly again.

The icy chrome floor chilled her belly as she entered the kitchen. A half-eaten soybean wafer stuck out from the edge of the table, but other than that, no signs of life.

How could they leave her alone? Air wheezed over her head as the main ventilator shaft shut off. The silence of stagnant air reminded her of when the ship first crashed. Vira’s face squished up as she held back her tears. She sniffed, wiping her eyes on her pajama cuffs and tried to calm herself down.
Someone will come home soon.

An alarm wailed down the corridor outside their family cell and she scrambled up, heart beating out of control. A shorter, more insistent sound beeped a warning followed by an automated response. “Engine failure in fifteen minutes. Core shutdown imminent. Evacuation procedures commence.”

Vira held her breath, not wanting to believe it. The ship was dying and she was alone.

She crawled underneath the kitchen table and curled up in a ball. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and they ran down her cheeks, wetting the front of her favorite pajamas. But soiling her pink jammies didn’t matter, because if someone didn’t stabilize the energy core, they’d all be dead.

She bit her lip until it hurt. After feeling sorry for herself, she wondered if there was a way she could help. If she could channel the remaining energy, she could connect to the ship and find out what was wrong. Maybe she could fix it. She thought back to Rizzy’s poster, the mage staring her down as if demanding her to use her powers. She’d done it before with the air ventilator. Controlling an entire ship would be more complex than one air ventilator, but at least she could try. Vira paused, hands hovering over the chrome floor, fingers shaking. If she reconnected to the systems, the evil presence would find her.

Metal banged as the hull adjusted to the changes in air pressure. Vira cringed, thinking of her parents, Rizzy, and even stupid Daryl. As much as she hated them at times, she wanted to see them again and sit together at the dinner table as a family, eating fresh food and calling each other a spacehead. If her dad couldn’t fix the problem, and the Seers didn’t care, it was up to her.

She held her breath and pressed her hands against the floor, feeling all the connections still alive within the mainframe branching out. No conscious presence presided. In fact, the systems ran blindly, each program terminating when their cycles completed with no new orders issued. No one was in charge at all.

Vira shot up. If she wanted to save the
Expedition
, she’d have to reach the control chamber where she could access each system at once from the main console. The heartbeat of the ship weakened, and she didn’t have much time before the spark keeping the energy core running flickered out.

She crawled back toward her room and popped open the secret floor panel. Her scooter, made from old parts and the cleaning droid sat, almost finished. She didn’t have a steering wheel, or a seat to hold herself up, but she could hold on and drive it with her mind like she was able to turn on the ventilator.

She activated the scooter and rode it to the front portal, stopping before the chrome. She couldn’t reach the panel for the portal, so she ran her hand along the wall. The wavering current of electricity tickled her fingertips, and she shot it up to the panel before it flickered out. The portal dematerialized, and the scooter propelled forward, pulling her with it.

People ran through the corridors so fast, they didn’t notice a girl lugged by a makeshift scooter at their feet. An older woman cried and a young man screamed for help inside his family cell. Guilt weighed on her as she ignored them and whizzed by, clinging to the scooter. She could only save them by reaching the control room.

The scooter dragged her to a back elevator, grander than any of the ones she’d seen before with double sets of portals, the frame painted in a filigree of loopy designs with two pairs of dark eyes staring over each portal. She pressed her hand to the wall. The wires ran dead for several decks. Probing deeper, she drew a current directly from the dying core to get the portals to dematerialize. The particles disappeared and she nudged the droid ahead with her mind. It wheeled her over the platform.

Her heart raced as the elevator rose, thumping in her hears. What if the Seers set a trap to catch her? A jolt of anxiety shook her body. Would they really sacrifice the ship and risk lives to catch a spy? She had no idea. But the energy core had destabilized. She could feel the tension brimming as the radiation permeated the inner shield. Getting caught was a gamble she’d had to take.

The portal dematerialized to a corridor cluttered by debris. It looked like no one had walked there since the ship crashed, and a shiver crept up her back. The scooter sputtered as it led her off the platform, the small green lights on the nose dimming.

“Come on you space bot! Not now.”

The buzzing of mechanics inside its belly clicked off as it powered down. Vira checked the energy cell, and the blue liquid in the tube had run out. An ethereal shine emanated down the long corridor from what could only be the control room. She was so close. Climbing off the scooter, she pulled herself forward a foot at a time.

Scrambling over Abysme’s body, Gemme reached Brentwood, ripping wires from his arms. The grooves left ugly patterns on his skin. “You okay?”

He nodded and stared beyond her shoulder. “Help Mestasis.”

From what she’d seen, it seemed like a lost cause, but Brentwood was right. The Seer had to come first, and if she could do anything to get her back, she would. Gemme ran over to Mestasis and cupped her wrinkly face in both hands. Her skin felt dry and cold underneath her fingertips. “Mestasis, wake up.”

The Seer lay limp in her arms. Gemme shook her and her head twisted to the side. Hesitantly, she laid her hand on her chest: no heartbeat. The finality of the moment hit her like a laser in her stomach. She turned back to Brentwood. “I think she’s gone.”

“Plug her back in, restart her heart.”

Wishing she had some sort of medic skills, Gemme turned the Seer over and pushed the spinal tube further into the input hole in her back. Pink liquid dribbled into her body, but Mestasis’s limbs hung lifeless. No matter how much Gemme jiggled the tube, only a trickle of liquid flowed. Around her the ship’s sirens wailed as the systems shut down one by one. An automated voice rang out, “Warning. Engine failure in fifteen minutes. Core shutdown imminent. Evacuation procedures recommended.”

“By the Guide.” Brentwood’s face paled as he struggled with his own restraints in panic. “I didn’t think losing them would cause a core failure. I had no idea.”

“Probably wouldn’t have if the ship was in better shape.” Gemme knew that made no difference now, but she didn’t want the fate of the entire ship resting on Brentwood’s head. They’d made the decision together, and now they had to fix it.

Gemme tried again to wake Mestasis, jiggling the tube she’d attached.

“I brought her back before.” Brentwood pulled his leg from the wire clump and stumbled over. He checked the tube, then turned her face to him. “Metsy, please come back to us.”

“She’s dead.” Gemme’s voice broke on her words.

“She can’t be.” Brentwood pressed on the Seer’s chest in rhythm and blew air into her mouth. “Come on, Metsy. We need you.”

“I can do it.” A small voice rang out behind them and they whirled around. Gemme recognized the girl she’d talked to in the safe zone after the comet shower had hit the
Expedition
. Sweat ran down the girl’s forehead, dripping off her black curls, and her cheeks flushed red with exertion. Sprawled on her belly, she must have dragged herself all the way there.

“Vira, what are you doing here? You should be evacuating.” Brentwood’s voice was stern.

Gemme’s mind turned back to that day in the emergency chamber. Vira had more control of her world than she let on, and the things she knew about Gemme were impossible unless she had secret access to the systems. It all fit into place like a grand puzzle, and Gemme couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen the connection before.

Vira was the first person on the
Expedition
to inherit the Seers’ abilities. Although the Seers themselves had no children, scientists had implanted random crew members with their eggs. The Seers had no knowledge of these experiments. Only the Matchmaker for each generation knew, and they tried to produce a crew member with the Seers’ unique abilities. There was no time to explain this to Brentwood, so he’d have to trust her. Gemme gave him a knowing look. “Let her try.”

Brentwood spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “What can she do? She doesn’t know CPR.”

“Help me lift her.” Gemme climbed over the debris and sprinted to Vira. “We’re taking her to the main console.”

“You mean let her run the ship like the Seers did?” His mouth fell open and he had to clamp it back up. “She’s just a girl.”

“She can do it.” Gemme gave Vira an encouraging smile as she picked her up. The girl shook, but her face was set in determination.

Vira’s voice was strong. “Please, give me a chance.”

Gemme carried her over the debris, holding her close to her chest. She spoke into the girl’s black curls. “You can fix it. I know you can.”

The automated response echoed on the intercom, “Ten minutes until core shutdown. Evacuation recommended.”

“All right.” Brentwood helped Gemme over the debris to the center of the control chamber. Placing their hands around her waist, they lifted her to the ceiling where the Seer’s had hung for generations. Vira grabbed the loose wires, wrapping them around her arms and closed her eyes.

Gemme sent all her positive energy through her arms into the girl.
Please Vira, you’re all we’ve got.

The alarms trailed off, and the lights dimmed to blackness. The white shine of the chest illuminated their faces in a ghostly sheen. Silence settled over the control chamber and Gemme could hear her own intake of breath. The chill crept in, crawling over her body and settling in her bones. She felt like the final ember of a fire before the winds of Tundra 37 blew out the last flickering flame.

Is this how it would end, she and Brentwood, holding the final hope of a dying civilization at the end of a frozen world? She looked into Brentwood’s eyes like she’d probably done for generations, always finding solace in the green flecks. He was her home, no matter if they were on Old Earth, on the
Expedition
, or Tundra 37, and the last thing she wanted to see was the warmth his eyes held for her.

Light, brighter than Solaris Prime, gushed around them. Had the core had exploded? Gemme shut her eyes, still holding onto Vira. What if they failed? The girl, and all the other children on the
Expedition
wouldn’t live long enough to have a full life. Deep melancholy sickened her stomach as she realized their mission would fail not only Thadious Legacy’s vision but also mankind. If only the Seers’ powers hadn’t been exploited for so long. If only they’d found Vira’s abilities sooner. A hundred
if onlys
flitted through her mind, none of them correctable in the last seconds before the core’s explosion engulfed the control chamber.

The bright light faded. Gemme breathed in and loosened her grip around Vira’s soft pajamas. Gemme wiggled her toes in her boots. She was still alive. The fluorescent lights above them flickered on, and she saw Brentwood, triumph in his eyes.

“Engine core stabilized. Evacuation procedures unnecessary.” Vira’s high-pitched voice echoed over the intercom. Like the Seers, her lips didn’t move as she mindspoke. Her voice was calm but childishly joyful. “Everyone return to your cells.”

“Amazing.” Brentwood shook his head, peering up at her. ”She rebooted the system.”

Above them, Vira clung to the wires like the ship was an extension of her arms. Her eyes remained closed, a placid expression on her features.