Caya sat among the people she loved, watching President Tylio give her speech, followed by the Gemosian interim president Bymento’s. He addressed mainly the Gemosian but made sure everyone knew he was pleased to assume the office of vice president.
“His wife is actually quite lovely,” Adina said. “She comes off as trendy and glamorous, but when I talked to her at the presidential dinner, she was so much more than that.”
“I know,” Briar replied. “She came to see me for a few sessions, and as it was her initiative, I figured I might learn from the experience. I mean, until then, I hadn’t had any one-on-one meetings where I’ve tried to use my gift.”
“I know you can’t say what you talked about, but was she pleased?” Caya hugged her sister’s arm against her, eager to get as much closeness while out in public as possible.
“She was. We’ve had more sessions and I’ve learned a lot.” Briar looked down at Caya, who easily spotted the sorrow in her eyes. “It’s so good to be out here with you and Adina and our friends. I just hate—”
“Shh.” Caya placed a finger on Briar’s lips. “We know I have to go back after this is over. I’m doing all right in those quarters. You know.”
“I know. I don’t worry for your physical wellbeing. I fear for your mind. You must miss everyone when we cannot visit.”
“I do.” What Caya didn’t tell her sister was how frustrated she was, how angry and upset and filled with resentment for being held captive by the woman on the podium. Gassinthea Mila Tylio, who insisted they should be on a first-name basis, hadn’t budged when it came to Caya’s incarceration. Yes, her friends and family could visit as much as she and they wanted, and the Creators knew that the president came by at least every other day. Caya also knew she could page Thea on her private communicator at any given time if she had a vision of some impending doom. That, somehow, didn’t make Caya feel any better.
Thea went up to the sound system again and waited until the applause after Bymento’s speech died out. Caya regarded her with that strange emotion she had felt ever since she first met Thea. Adina, her sister-in-law, had been hospitalized after a severe red-garnet burn, and together with Briar, she had saved the entire neonatal ward at the hospital and potentially more than that. Caya had visited Adina together with her sister Briar when Thea and her entourage entered the hospital room. Something had happened then that defied everything Caya had ever hoped to experience. Thea had commented on what she called Caya’s unusual eye color. Caya never knew until then that she and her sister’s eyes held the rarest transparent turquoise hue. Thea had seemed mesmerized then, and Caya had caught her getting lost while looking at her on several occasions. She knew Briar had picked up on it, but apart from looking mystified, she hadn’t commented.
Now, Thea locked her gaze on Caya, again, and began to speak.
“Pathfinder has passed its half-journey mark. According to Admiral Korrian’s calculations, we have traveled past the buoy put in place by the advance team that came here two years ago. They of course traveled much faster than we do and reached Gemocon in a little more than a year. If all goes well during our second half, we’ll be there in about four hundred days. The advance team is working hard mapping out the territory where we’ll set down our cubes when the time comes. Admiral Caydoc, the woman who lent her name to this park area, sends me constant updates via the buoys they left like breadcrumbs for us to follow. The latest message also showed some footage—we have yet to receive live films—and we’re happy to be able to show you. Can we project the photos, please?”
A large screen lowered from the tall, sky-like ceiling. As soon as it clicked into place, photos of the advance team began to appear. Caya looked wide-eyed at pictures of machines digging, people pulling wires and other equipment. Far away, she saw tall, snowy mountains and, at the foot of them, bright-green woods. The possibility of feeling solid ground beneath her feet in the near future made her tremble. Then reality caught up with her and she stood so fast, Briar fell away from her and onto Adina, who barely caught her.
“Caya?” Briar frowned and struggled to get to her feet.
“No. You stay. I’ll—I need to go back to my quarters. My prison. You stay here and enjoy your freedom and the wonderful prospects all the advance team’s hard labor has to offer a free person.” Caya pivoted and signaled to the presidential guards that she wanted to leave. They looked confused for a moment, but eventually two of them stayed as the other two flanked Caya.
“Please. Just wait until Thea is done up there. She’ll want to—”
“But I don’t. I don’t want to do anything. Yes, she might plan to treat us all to dinner, or some other festive event, but it won’t matter. Once it’s over, you, Adina, Korrian, and Meija will return to your quarters, where you can come and go at your leisure. I, on the other hand, will return to the presidential guest quarters. No fancy dinner or entertainment will change that. I can’t stand it, Briar. Don’t you see?” Caya’s throat hurt, and the idea of being in Thea’s presence as if she were on an equal footing with everyone else made her nauseous.
“I do. I actually do.” Pale now, Briar pulled Caya into a firm embrace. “For a moment, before you shut me out, I did look into the bright light that is your soul, and the solitude there hurt.”
“You read me?” Caya hadn’t thought it was possible for Briar to penetrate her defenses. She rarely let her guard down, but of course, in Thea’s presence, Caya lost her bearings.
“I had to. You scare me when you are this…this vehement. This is not the little sister I recall.”
Caya wondered if Briar was being deliberately obtuse. “Back then, I wasn’t incarcerated. Well, at least not to this degree.”
“And you’re not incarcerated now.” Thea’s sonorous voice made them all jump. “You’re in protective custody.”
Less affected by Thea’s commanding presence than the others, Caya placed her hands on her hips again. “Of course. It’s all for my own good. Why can’t anybody here get it into their heads that if something horrible were to happen to me, I would sense it ahead of time and be able to avoid it?” To Caya’s dismay, her lower lip began to tremble, and she pinched her midsection hard on either side to keep from making a fool of herself by showing vulnerability in public.
“She does have a point, Caya,” Meija Solimar said, her gentle voice pensive. “Perhaps your gift doesn’t work so well when it comes to your own safety? So far, your predictions have always been about other people. Even the despicable Had—oh. I am very sorry, Madam President.”
Caya knew Meija had almost spoken the president’s ex-husband’s name out loud in her presence. Glancing carefully at Thea, she saw Meija didn’t have anything to fear for her faux pas.
Thea smiled wryly. “Even the despicable Hadler. Yes, Caya. Meija does have a point as well. Perhaps your gift extends to your own safety as well, but for now, my ruling stands. That said, I think Briar and Adina would be heartbroken if you didn’t join us for dinner. I have arranged for something out of the ordinary. We’re going to have our meal at one of the places aboard Pathfinder very few people are ever allowed to go. I’d hate for you to miss it.” Holding out her hand, Thea focused her dark-blue eyes on Caya, imploring her. Her blond hair, streaked by white highlights, framed her perfect oval face. Her pink lips kept smiling, but now with a touch of uncertainty and with an onset of nerves that Caya didn’t have to have her sister’s empathic abilities to sense. Curious now, and also reluctant to hurt Briar in any way, or Adina, who had been nothing but majorly wonderful to her and her sister, Caya sighed and nodded. “So much for my grand exit in a huff.”
“Oh, good!” Briar hugged her again, this time hard and rocking back and forth. “I know everything will work out. It has to.”
Caya wasn’t so sure. She walked between Briar and Adina when they left the park, unable to disregard the long looks and whispered comments around her. People knew who she was. She’d been seen with Thea in public many times, and her face had been plastered across the view-screen transmissions many times after she helped save lives when the saboteurs were active.
Thea and the guards took them through to the presidential jumper that carried them to a set of uninhabited corridors. From there, they rode a lift up through several decks and exited into what seemed to be a small, white hallway. There were two doors, and Caya automatically searched her mind, but she received no warning signals from what she had begun to call her ‘inner scanner.” Usually the premonitions started with slight nausea and a strange taste in her mouth. She used to get really sick, faint, and have convulsions sometimes, but nowadays she could calm the strange sensations and focus on the imagery flickering through her mind. Every scene that she felt displayed on the inside of her eyelids was for her to interpret, and the way she had developed this skill amazed even her.
The guards opened the door to the left and stood back to let Thea and her guests in. As they walked inside, Briar gasped and Caya just stared. Around them, in full view as if there were no walls at all, space hurtled by at magnetar-drive speed. Silver streaks around them gave Caya a sense of actually traveling for the first time since she had boarded Pathfinder. Normally, being aboard the massive ship consisting of twenty-one individual cubes felt like being planetside. The artificial gravity and the attention to detail that the ship’s designers had taken made it almost impossible to fathom that she traveled through space. Caya walked closer to the—she wanted to call them windows but realized the walls couldn’t be made of regular glass. “Is it safe to touch?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Absolutely.” Korrian came up to her. “As you may have guessed, this is a rare component, far too expensive to use on any surfaces larger than this. We have twelve lookout quarters such as these scattered around the ship. That way, no matter how we move the cubes around, a couple of them will be turned toward our surrounding space.”
“What’s it made from?” Caya let her fingertips slide across the transparent surface.
“A rather innovative blend of transpar alloy and brace-crystalline. The latter strengthens the alloy and emphasizes its transparency. If you look really closely, you can see the facets of the crystalline-like glitter particles.”
“Your invention?” Caya looked up at the tall, dark-skinned woman who was a revered hero for her role in constructing Pathfinder.
“My invention, but not my idea. Actually, Meija came up with it. She claimed it was vital for some individuals to really grasp that we’re indeed traveling through space. Apparently, some people who aren’t used to space travel at all can’t get a sense of not living in the real world unless they witness the truth themselves.”
“It’s true,” Meija said and wrapped her arm around Caya’s shoulders. “As of now, we’ve had more than eight hundred people visit these lookouts. They need a prescription from a doctor, as this is not a tourist attraction. It’s intended for mental-health issues.”
“Except right now,” Caya said, and glanced at Thea.
“I beg to differ.” Thea motioned for her guests to take a seat around the table. “I needed some peace of mind, and I had been here only once before and thought we might just benefit from it.” She sat down at the other side of the table, straight across from Caya, who wasn’t sure she could manage a single bite if the president was going to scrutinize her like this.
“Well, I’m grateful I was able to see this at least once,” Briar said from Caya’s right. “The food looks amazing. And fresh! Is this all from the hydroponics chambers?”
“It is. We’re starting to see bigger crops finally, and I thought you might like to sample it. Having only food from the dispensers in your quarters can become a bit bland, I’m afraid.” Thea placed a napkin on her lap and gestured toward Korrian to start with the plates on her side. Vegetables, fruits, and roots were so beautifully arranged that Caya’s mouth watered.
“Oh, look! Water berries.” Briar sighed. “I never thought I’d taste those again. Remember the bushes by the brook in our garden back ho—” She blinked and gripped her utensils hard. “I mean, back on Oconodos.” Adina placed a hand on Briar’s hand.
“Even though we just named our new home today, we can still recognize how much we miss our old homeplanet.” Thea spoke softly, her eyes scanning Caya’s again.
“And the ones we left behind,” Caya said. “I can’t stop thinking about what their lives are like now.” A nudge from Briar under the table said “not now, not here,” but Caya was too agitated to play nice. “I know I’m not the only one who agonizes over what the conditions are for them. I mean, I’m sure the regular population doesn’t see all the reports coming through via the beacon system, but even the ones we’re privy to tell of such hardship…” She wiped at a tear, but it escaped her and landed on her plate, blending with the pink dressing. “Orphan changer kids living on the streets…it’s insane.”
“Sweetheart,” Briar said, but stopped when Caya put up her hand, palm toward the others.
“I know. I know. I should pick my moments. The thing is,” and now she locked her gaze on Thea, “I don’t have very many moments to pick. Usually, I dine alone in my quarters, study alone, and when I do spend time with someone, I can tell it’s understood that I must cherish those moments, which clearly means I should keep it light and pleasant and not talk about anything real or important.” She lost her breath after her long sentence and gasped painfully for air.
“You have a point, Caya.” Thea nodded slowly. “We can’t share all the messages from Oconodos. It’s my responsibility to keep everybody aboard safe, whether it is one changer girl or large groups with family members who remained on Oconodos. If people fear that their friends and family left behind are in any way not faring well, we might face uproars, even a mutiny. I’m well aware that there’s an undercurrent of perpetual guilt aboard Pathfinder. If I allow it to run rampant, the entire Exodus operation will be in jeopardy.” Thea pierced a water berry with her fork. “My job is as simple as it is difficult. I need to get you to Gemocon in one piece and, once we arrive, keep the interim government going until we can have new elections.” She lowered her gaze for a moment. “And then I’m free.” She stared at the piece of fruit on her fork. “Anyway, I don’t want you to feel censored in any way when it comes to topics of conversation in your quarters, Caya.”
Caya couldn’t find the words to explain that it wasn’t just about that. Of course she realized her sister and friends might feel inclined to keep their visits bright and cheery for her sake. This tactic tended to backfire, as Caya needed to talk about the injustice she felt was done to her. Some days she even resented Briar for being free to continue with her life and her career, despite being a changer, an empath, and sometimes a mind reader. Briar’s moniker, Red Angel, protected her better than anything else, as she had helped so many people they were ready to airlock anyone who tried to hurt her. Caya didn’t have any following. She wasn’t even sure anyone but the president and her closest family and friends knew of how her ability to see the future could benefit the people on Pathfinder.
“I know,” Caya answered now, trying her best to look polite and reasonable. It took more effort than the others realized to calm the resentment and anger to something manageable. “I am grateful I’m not confined to the brig, after all.” She knew her acerbic comment was too much as soon as it left her lips. Briar looked at her with such sorrow, and Adina pressed her lips into a fine line. Oddly enough, only Thea looked at her with an open and steady gaze.
“I would never allow for you to spend so much as a second in the brig. You’re an asset to this vessel and under my personal protection. I’m prepared to go quite far to stop anyone from exploiting you—or your sister, for that matter.”
Thea’s passionate words startled Caya. She hadn’t heard the president speak like that in a long time. Usually when they were in the same room, Caya kept her distance. She had been an avid admirer of Thea from the moment she first met her. Gushing about her to Briar and Adina, Caya had been ready to give her life to keep the president safe and even protect her from her abusive husband. It hadn’t dawned on her that she’d still be incarcerated at this point and that it would be Thea’s decision all along to keep her locked away from the rest of Pathfinder.
“Caya knows this, Thea,” Briar said quietly. “The thing is, she was cooped up with me for the longest time while I homeschooled her on Oconodos. We were so scared people would find out she was a changer; we were doing…what you’re doing now. Keeping her locked up for her safety.” She turned to Caya, and tears filled her eyes. “You were just coming into your own with friends and the last year of school after boarding Pathfinder. You went jumper-cruising with your friends and you were free. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Briar’s voice broke, and she extended her hand.
Caya stood slowly, knowing if she gave in now, if she took Briar’s hand, she would break down and cry…and she feared she might not be able to stop. “I don’t think I can—I mean, I want to go back to my quarters now. I’m just bringing everyone down, when this meal and these surroundings should be a celebration. We finally have a name for the planet that will be our home. You all can’t wait to reach our destination and begin your new life. I’m not as confident as you that I will find it as wonderful or exciting. I may just switch to new quarters to be confined to, for all I know.”
“Caya!” Thea stood also, her shoulders pushed back and with fire in her eyes. “I have never said I’d keep you in protective custody forever. On Gemocon you will most likely be free to carry on with your life and fend for yourself.” She looked furious, which made Caya wonder about her wording in the beginning—“most likely.” It was a far stretch between “most likely” and “absolutely.”
“This discussion is quickly getting old, and it goes on in circles every time without anyone actually listening.” Caya bent and kissed Briar’s cheek and then Adina’s. Glancing briefly at Briar she said, “Thank you for the meal and the view.” She raised her hand in a limp sort of wave and left the lookout with her head high, but with tears burning behind her eyelids.
“Caya…” Briar called out but was interrupted by Adina.
“She’s upset. Give her some time.”
Caya shook her head at the well-meant words. She had all the time in the world, and still her thoughts wouldn’t line up enough for her to be able to think things through logically. Perhaps if she refused to have company for a few weeks she might be able to come up with a plan to make life more tolerable.
More worth living.