Attention: ALL
Subject: Request for Volunteers
If you are interested in expanding your work experience, please consider joining the rotation crews! Opportunities are available for first and third shifts in all departments. Training will be provided on site.
—President Marshall
I stormed forward, pushing all my feeling through my feet and wishing I were bigger so my stomps made more of an impact. Faraday could stomp like a boss, even on carpet. Or with bare feet. She didn’t have to be mad. But here I was, fuse lit and ready to explode, and all I managed was soft flappy noises and some heavy breathing. Andrek kept his distance except for when he redirected me with a tap on my elbow.
The cafeteria turned out to be the same room where we had the vow. It seemed empty without everyone standing shoulder to shoulder and the pile of helmets and space suits. The floor was lined with tables full of diners, and the wall between the east and west hallways was open to a long counter.
Past the counter squatted the kitchen, which I felt weirdly guilty peeking at as we sidestepped along through the serving line, like I ought to be working already. It gleamed with high-tech silver appliances—dozens of ovens and grills and workstations—and kitchen staff gossiped joyfully as they cleaned. Seeing it made me wish I were back there with them.
I took a rainbow-colored tray and surveyed the meal. Mostly dry rations, which would gag me if I weren’t used to the stuff from the last month on the ship. But there were also creamy mashed potatoes and a cucumber and tomato salad. Real food.
The bright colors and sharp smell of vinegar washed over me, turning my mood like a key clicking in its lock. Until my mom caught me smiling, which killed the moment at once. I wished we hadn’t waited for her and Dad. There might still be enchiladas and curry instead of only rations and sides.
“If we had food like this on the ship, why’ve we been eating that other crap?” I complained.
“Lane!” Mom fussed, shooting me an exasperated glare as she left with her tray. She headed toward my dad, who sat at the same table as Andrek. Unfortunately.
A white guy on the other side of the counter scooted me an extra container of salad. “I thought the same thing when I saw the menu, but these are lunar, donated from Guanghan then grown right here. I got dizzy chopping them. Hadn’t smelled anything so perfect in years.” He had kind eyes, soft brown like tumbleweeds, and his skin was linen pale and swimming with freckles. “I’m Stephan Novak, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I inhaled the scent of the extra salad. Zara made a dish like this, with red vinegar and tiny purple onions. I’d have liked to try adding something different sometime, maybe some heat.
“You don’t have to thank him. It’s his job.” Viveca said, entering the line. “We all work here, so it would be a waste of air and energy to go around thanking every person for every little thing.” She chose the next salad, touching it as little as possible, as if it were going to bite her.
“Still busy making friends?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left my mouth, but I couldn’t help myself. Stephan seemed nice, and Viveca was so clearly not. “Or do you only do that with people you plan to study?”
“I’m simply stating the obvious,” she said. Her back straightened more, and my fingers turned white around my tray. “And hoping to avoid normalizing empty chatter.”
“I get it. This is you making conversation.” Why was I still talking? What monster-sized bad idea crawled in my face and decided to pick a fight with Viveca, my parent’s favorite recruit?
Stephan made a stricken face. “It’s all right. I didn’t expect anything—”
“And I wasn’t trying to make friends, Lane,” she returned, sneering at my name yet looking unbelievably pretty at the same time. Either she practiced that look, or she was completely unaware she was making it. “I’m rather selective with friendship.”
“Good,” I said as I looked apologetically at Stephan. “I wasn’t volunteering.”
I hurried away before I escalated to dunking her into my mashed potatoes. Not that I’d ever done anything like that, but she made me want to. My tray clattered on the table by Andrek’s, basically across from my parents.
Not far enough.
Dad glanced up from his food. I’m sorry about earlier, his face said. A bit of potato was smeared in his mustache. I ignored him.
The table across us held mostly strangers, but down at the end sat a group of parents I knew, whose eyes met mine too fast for comfort, like they were waiting for me to glance their way. Mr. Weissman, a funny dad who used to bring pastries to the schoolroom every Friday, folded his lips into a kind of smile—a new one, not his crow’s-feet-crinkle or sniffly chin wiggle.
I didn’t recognize it, but I found myself trying to copy the folds, so I knew it felt exactly right. I might wear this expression more often.
“Are you seeing it now?” Andrek asked, leaning in close. “Mitosis.”
A quick scan of the surrounding tables confirmed what he said earlier. It was like high school cliques in pre-melt films. The collective folks sat together in tight groups, though I couldn’t tell by looking who had supported whom in the election, while the recruits sat apart, whole lengths of table separating the old and new. I didn’t see any of the old staff who greeted us.
Only one person moved between. Joule. He saw Andrek and came our way, not noticing or caring how attention trailed him across the room.
“There you two are,” he said and stood behind my mom. “Interested in taking a walk after you eat? I was hoping I could pick your brains about Lunar Trust logistics and such. The oral history version. I never expected to end up here, and I don’t like not knowing, well, everything. Figured I’d be stuck on Blackstone or some other lunar base making googly eyes at the shipyards for a decade first.”
Andrek kicked my foot under the table. “Are you asking us on a date?”
I kicked him back and filled my mouth with tomato. Joule’s invitation sounded more like Viveca’s than I liked, all learning-about-stuff focused, but at least he was up front about it. My parents were giving us major side-eye.
“Yes, please,” Joule answered. “A date with informational benefits.”
Andrek smiled so wide I thought his face might break. “I don’t see any harm in it.”
“Lane?” Joule faced me, maybe for the first time that I noticed. His skin was polished mahogany, lit from within like a jewelry case, and his brown-black eyes were almost too intense to look into directly. Andrek officially had competition in the most beautiful man contest. I liked that he asked us both instead of trying to cowboy my boyfriend away.
I was not ready, though. I hadn’t known it until now. It was fine if Andrek was, but I wasn’t yet.
“Why don’t we see how tonight goes?” I said lightly. Andrek kept kicking me like he was part metronome, but at least one of us should play things cool. “It should be the two of you first anyway. Nothing in my brain to pick.”
“One hundred percent fair.” Joule sat, settled his elbows on the table, and laced his long fingers. His dark eyes sparkled kindly. “But I bet there’s plenty.”
Then, just as things swerved toward fun, Viveca appeared behind Joule. She stared knives into his head and cleared her throat.
“What is it, V?”
I liked him more for not flinching when her lovely mouth narrowed into a frown. Plus, he called her “V,” which I could pretend stood for something less intimidating than Viveca. Like Vicki or Violet. I could get along great with a Vicki or a Violet.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Can we talk? In private?” She cut a chilly look at me.
I studied my food and stuffed my mouth. I didn’t want to see my parents when they realized this was The Viveca or heard the argument between Mr. and Ms. Perfect. But my ears didn’t care what I wanted. They worked fine.
“I’m hoping to convince these two to let me take them out,” Joule said, oblivious to how mad she was. “We can talk here.”
Andrek patted my thigh twice to say “dra-ma,” and I peeked at him in time to catch his smirk. I started to think she’d slink away, back to whatever tower her personality escaped from, but then she wrapped arms around Joule’s neck and planted herself on his lap. Her hair came dangerously close to my food.
“Joule,” she oozed, “You promised you would at least check in with me.” I deliberately did not look at her but noticed how the cucumbers smelled like summertime. “Before you lend your considerable intellect to strangers.”
“I thought we already discussed tonight. This is my first opportunity to meet the old guard trustees and immerse myself in our new surroundings. You’re supposed to start on your project, you said.”
Viveca didn’t respond right away but also didn’t break eye contact with him.
“You’ve heard about it, right?” Joule asked me and Andrek. He must have had the strength of a bear to pull away from Viveca’s steady gaze. “The memorial?”
I shook my head involuntarily and kept shaking even after I noticed I was doing it. He couldn’t be saying what I thought he was, no sir.
Luckily, Andrek had more head space than I did. Bless him, my guy. “The memorial for Lane’s sister?”
“That’s it! It’s a unique plan, and Viveca’s petition should be in a guidebook on how to write petitions,” Joule said. “Do you want to tell them about it, V?”
I swallowed the lump of fire that lodged in my throat. Just when I thought I could relax, could adore my boyfriend’s crush and despise that crush’s girlfriend in peace, my worlds decided to crash into each other. Sure, my parents sucked, but she was the one behind this pain parade.
Viveca turned her face our way, but her voice came out distant. “I don’t think now’s the best time.”
“Huh!” A hot laugh forced itself from my mouth. What did she know about “best times?” Did she think of that before writing her petition and barging into my family’s mourning process like we were her birthday present? This was probably why she wanted me in her grief group, to mine my tears for her pity circus and put it on permanent display. Come witness the amazing Tanner family as they sold their family member’s legacy to a hothead. “Tell us all about it.”
“I’d rather—”
“I insist.”
Joule flapped his hands happily. “Bossy Lane is extra cute! Now you have to, V.”
“If you say so.” She pulled her long hair to the front and combed through it slowly. The thick waves parted easily, slipping around her fingers like water. “I won’t pretend I have it all figured out because nothing’s decided. The most popular ideas would take months to prepare, like the sculpture or the annual holiday cycle to celebrate Far—our founder’s achievements. This can be the ground from which lunar culture grows, our central symbol.”
I exhaled carefully, rounding my mouth like a straw. Not only for the hothead, folks, but you and you and you, everyone can buy a piece of the action; just ask for the Tanner Family Discount. When the next one dies, we hope you’ll buy her too!
Keep it together, temper. “Central symbol.”
“Exactly. We could rename the days of the week or the months themselves, since the longer the trust stands, the less it’ll have in common with Earth time. Honestly, the renaming may take decades, like, how terrible a name is ‘Lunar Trust One?’ Why not ‘Faraday Settlement’ or something that at least says who we are, not just what?” Viveca braided and unbraided her impossibly cooperative hair as she chattered on. “Part of what defines a community are its symbols, the way our values imprint onto language, then our art and philosophy, even the questions we ask about the nature of humanity or existence.”
I opened and closed my mouth, searching for words and fighting the urgent need to repeat the worst of what she said. Faraday Settlement. What a terrible name.
Lunar Trust One, that was our name.
The whole point, Faraday’s whole point, of the trust’s name was that it was only the beginning, a first seed of freedom planted on the moon. Earth’s bridge to survival in space. Sure, our four domes weren’t self-sufficient—none of the lunar bases were yet—but that was the goal. Guanghan, the Chinese base, had gotten the closest, but they still got material shipments from Earth twice a year. Blackstone, Mirage, and Loris alternated shipments together, sharing what came and what they produced themselves. We would be somewhere in the middle as the only permanent settlements, while the others were truly “bases,” crewed by workers and military.
“She—she—but—summertime—” I looked helplessly at Andrek and clamped my lips shut. This sent nervous energy rippling through me, first as a twitch in my shoulder then into my leg, which started shaking uncontrollably.
He squeezed my thigh, holding his hand there for deep pressure until my leg slowed its bouncing. “I don’t know how to respond to that, except to say that sounds like a massive undertaking with a lot of very intense, and very personal, decisions involved.”
“Oh, definitely,” she said.
“But why you?” I demanded, the screech in my voice more audible than I was proud of.
She leveled those steady browns on me. “Why not me? I’ve followed her career all my life. Ran her international fan club for six years and wrote two thesis papers about her ideals and impact. I’m uniquely qualified.”
“Qualified! Andrek, she’s qualified.” He was still squeezing my thigh but it wasn’t tight enough. I wrapped both my hands around his and pressed hard. “Do you have any idea—can you hear yourself?”
“My hearing is excellent. Am I to understand you think I’m not qualified?”
I laugh-cackled again but couldn’t word. Then something stung my wrist, like a bug bite, instantly followed by a sting on the back of my neck. I slapped at it and decided it couldn’t be a bug, but maybe it was radioactive dust and Faraday would know, she would have known, or it was my brain, spicing things up for funsies like the salad failed to do.
“If you hate my ideas so much, why don’t you plan something? Since you think you’ll do a better job.” She slammed a pretty hand on the table and pushed herself up to stare down at me.
“I will!” I said hotly.
Andrek gasped, and Joule’s jaw dropped.
“Lane!” my mom said, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. Hadn’t she told me to participate? For the good of the trust?
“Have at it,” Viveca said. “Don’t let me stand in your way.”
“I won’t.”
She actually said, “Splendid.”
“I’m still not joining your group, though.”
“I don’t care in the slightest,” she huffed as she got to her feet. “And it’s not mine, besides. I told you that. I’m only a resident, obviously, at least until my doctoral work’s approved. Do realize I’m not going to hand you reins because you shoved in at the last minute. This project, the trust, it matters to me. We’ll be partners. Best offer.”
“I don’t need reins from you,” I snapped. “She’s my sister.”
“I’ll send you details about the first planning meeting to make sure it doesn’t conflict with your shift in…?”
“The kitchen. And you’re welcome, by the way.”
“Tha—thank you?” She rolled her hips and stormed off.
“Aaaargh!” I stared at my forgotten food and pulled my leg free of Andrek’s hand. Haughty, horrible, manipulative girl. Of all the times for me to let my anger win over reason. I should have stuffed my face and said nothing, let her ramble and be awful then fussed about her later. Why did I always have to be me?
“SCREE-YICK-EEEH!”
My hands flew to cover my ears before I registered why and what I was hearing. It was a noise, feedback screeching from the overhead speakers like a dying animal at maximum volume.
Its scream clawed at me from the top of my head all the way into my toes, vibrating so hard I worried my veins would burst. Even when it finally broke, when there came a moment of quiet, the pain it left behind was like fire.
“Greetings from Earth, lunar colonists,” said a voice, too loud, too familiar, plunging me into ice. “I’m Brand Masters, and on behalf of myself and my Royal Corps, I want to congratulate you on taking the first step in your project...”