Warning lights flashed everywhere: from the walls, the ceiling and even the locator on my arm. I stood on the main control deck, gaping at all the gauges as readings skimmed by in long strings of unintelligible numbers and letters.
Lieutenant Crophaven’s stern voice resonated on the intercom. “Nova, you’ve got to stop it. Do whatever you can. Find a way.”
“Stop what?”
No answer. I knew deep down. The alien eyes seared my back.
I turned to the sight panel in slow motion. An army of ships cluttered the horizon. Each second more of them dropped from the sky, like a sea of giant, round mushrooms. They fried the jungle to black ash and cut jagged holes in the crystal until the planet disintegrated before us, breaking into pieces.
“You can’t let them reach the New Dawn!” Crophaven’s voice faded and the intercom sizzled out.
I turned to the commander’s chair, but Commander Barliss’ eyes were closed. His head slumped forward, and his chin rested on his chest. Bubbles of liquid gurgled from the input holes in his head. His skin glistened like candle wax in the red, flashing light.
“Commander Barliss, do something!” I ran up to him.
He lay unmoving, like he’d given up, or the ship had sucked the life out of him.
“Commander! We need you.” I placed both my hands on the arms of his chair and shook it back and forth. He collapsed against me. So frail. So thin. Like a hollow bag of bones. Stifling a shudder, I lifted him back into his chair and belted him in, my hands bumping against the tubes in his arms. One of the wires disconnected from the input hole in the center of his forehead, and I reached up, my insides crawling, and plugged it back in with a sickening click.
The ship trembled. I whipped around to the sight panel. One of the ships had cleared a path from the jungle to the control room. It hovered over us, and the sky went black as the gray hull blocked the sun. I ran to the sight panel and pressed my face against the glass, staring directly at the belly of the ship. A long tunnel spun down from the underside, metal expanding like liquid mercury.
The laser beam.
Alarms wailed in my ears, and I pressed every button I could find, hitting them over and over again, like a game of Galaxy Battlefield gone wrong. Dad’s words came back to me: “I hit the damn ship fair and square.”
That’s right! I did hit the ship fair and square, but nothing happened. Soon we’d all be toast. I thought of Solar, Mom, and Dad. I was supposed to save them. I’d worked so hard.
Through the fear came a razor-sharp sense of injustice. It sliced my heart open just as my chest boiled and raged. This was Andromeda’s fault. If only she’d picked me to lead the team.
Golden light flashed around me, so bright it scorched my eyes. I fell to my knees and covered my face with my hands.
I’d never had a chance to prove myself.
I’d never had a chance at love.
Clawing at my eyes, I twisted around and hid my face in a cushion. Why I’d chosen midday sunlight as a wake-up alarm on my sleep pod was beyond me. Sure, it did the trick; I was wide awake within seconds, but little black spots danced underneath my eyelids all through breakfast. The strange dreams the light caused were wacked out...
Was getting up on time really worth it?
I used to think so when tests decided everything and I held my fate in my hands, but the chaos of Paradise 21 turned every rule upside down. A species integration assistant could become a lieutenant within a breath of fresh, poisonless air.
Disgusted with my dream, I flipped open the lid and dangled my bare feet over the edge. Day two. Time for answers.
I pulled on yesterday’s uniform because Mom hadn’t done laundry all week. When will the commander make the announcement? Obviously, the ship hadn’t flown away, because I would have heard news on the wallscreen. My message center and colony updates feed lay silent.
Let’s get this show on the road. The chances of Andromeda choosing me were slim to none, but I was tired of waiting. I pressed the panel to my portal and walked into the kitchen like a lieutenant on a mission.
“Nova’s got a boyfriend,” Solar sang from the kitchen table as I reached for the soy cereal container.
“Ha, ha.” I emphasized each word with sarcasm. Sirius was the farthest thing from a boyfriend, but I didn’t argue with her. At least she wasn’t accusing me of not helping her with her homework. “Did you finish all your math equations?”
“Yeah, no thanks to you.” She stuck out her tongue and popped a piece of apple in her mouth.
“Solar, you apologize to your sister right now.” Mom rounded the corner to the kitchen, her hair half-combed for work and her uniform unzipped in the back. “Nova is very busy, and you’re lucky she helps you at all.”
“It’s not necessary.” I poured myself a bowl of soy flakes. I just couldn’t seem to eat the fruit and vegetables grown on Paradise 21. It wasn’t even a thing against Andromeda and her mom’s greenhouses. I just didn’t like the look of humongous, crystal-enhanced produce. “It’s my fault. I forgot to help her.”
“She shouldn’t need your help all the time.” Mom stuck her finger at Solar. “Your sister made team expedition leader all by herself. Nova didn’t have anyone around to do the work for her.”
“Come on, Mom.” Solar pouted.
I counted the hours Mom had off. “What are you doing? Your shift shouldn’t start for another three hours. Go back to sleep. Get some rest.”
She looked away and smoothed the tangles in her hair, unable to meet my eyes. “I thought I’d get a head start. You know, the early bird catches the worm.”
I peered into the hall behind her. Silence. Yeah right. I stepped close to her because I didn’t want Solar to hear. The poor girl had her schoolwork to worry about. “Someday they’re going to catch you doing Dad’s work.”
Mom tied her hair up and straightened her uniform. Her mouth set in a grim, tight line. “For your sake and mine, let’s hope that day never comes.”
Pushing by me, Mom grabbed a handful of soyflakes. “Zip me up.”
I lifted her thin, graying hair and pulled up the zipper. Her shoulder blades were sharp edges. “That’s all you’re going to eat?”
“I don’t have time for anything else.” She grabbed a gigantic, shining apple. “I’ll have this for lunch.”
“Wait, what about the soyloaf from last night, or the mashed potatoes?” I dug in the fridge and pulled last night’s leftovers, or more like the sludge I’d salvaged off the dishes. I searched the cabinets, but all our food containers were dirty. “Just wait a sec and I’ll wash this one.”
“No thanks, Nova. I’ll be all right.” Mom pressed the panel, and the portal to our family cell dematerialized.
Solar jumped up from her seat and gave Mom a hug. I stood holding moldy food containers in both hands, feeling helpless.
“Bye, gals.” Mom slipped out the portal before I could argue.
Solar settled back in her seat and clicked on her miniscreen. “Nova and Sirius sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
The portal beeped and we both jumped back. Had mom forgotten something? Had she changed her mind?
My hopes rose as I ran to answer it. I flicked on the viewscreen and the one face I never wanted to see again stared back at me.
“Andromeda?”
She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, her blond hair braided into a tight bun on her head. She was dressed in formal attire: a navy lieutenant’s training uniform with the shining badge of the New Dawn on her breast pocket. She had a smear of red blush on her high cheekbones. “I need to talk to you.”
Was she coming to gloat in my face? Did she want Sirius back? A thousand questions rushed through my mind. Should I let her in?
She was a lieutenant-in-training. I had to let her in. Pressing the door panel, I cursed under my breath. And my day was already going so well...
“Thank you for admitting me at such an early hour.” Andromeda cast one glance at all the dirty dishes and moldy containers. I could have sworn her nose twitched before she looked back at me.
Embarrassment flushed my cheeks. I could act professional in public, but it was hard to hide the dysfunctional nature of my family at home. Anger rushed up, all directed at her for coming to my personal, private space.
Andromeda folded her hands neatly in front of her slender body. “Is there a room where we can talk in private?”
Solar threw an apple core at the sink, and it bounced off the wall before landing in the food disposal. I resisted the urge to slap my palm over my face.
“Oh, I get it. I can take a hint. Don’t worry. I’m leaving for school anyway.” Solar grabbed a humongous pear and her miniscreen. As she left, she pulled on her ears and stuck out her tongue behind Andromeda’s back. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
Solar could pick on me all she wanted but, in the end, my baby sis was on my side.
Andromeda stood awkwardly in front of the portal frame, so I gestured toward the table. I might be cold, but I wasn’t a savage, or a space pirate, like her ancestors. “Come in. Have a seat.”
I wiped the table, collecting the apple peels Solar had arranged in a smiley face across the table and tossed them in the sink. Andromeda sat in Dad’s seat. I didn’t like seeing her there, but he never used it, so it didn’t matter. I sat in my seat, across from her.
“You may have guessed the alien ship hasn’t flown away.” She wasn’t there for small talk.
My heart sped, but I kept my face calm. “That thought had crossed my mind.”
Andromeda placed both hands on the table, as if to steady herself. She swallowed and then stared at me head on. “I’ve chosen the team.”
Oh great. I was right the first time. She’d come to gloat. I leaned back and narrowed my eyes, readying myself for a biting retort. “And?”
“I’ve chosen you as team expedition leader.”
My eyebrows rose to my hairline. “But you hate me.” I knew the second the words slipped form my mouth I shouldn’t have said them.
Andromeda winced then regained her composure. “You’re an excellent explorer. Your file is spotless, and you already have experience on this world.” She looked at the table, tracing a crack with her finger. “Personal matters shouldn’t factor into my decision. I know you’ll be the best for the team.”
I sat speechless, like a miniscreen trying to download too much information all at once.
Andromeda ignored my gawking silence. “The team leaves immediately after the announcement is made. The level of danger for this mission is the highest we’ve seen. I came to ask you first, to make sure this is what you want, before I announce the team members to the colony.”
“Of course it’s what I want.” I fumbled on my words. “I’m just so shocked. I didn’t think you’d pick me.”
“Do you really think me petty enough to let our past mistakes affect our present situation?”
I shrugged, humbled by her decision. “I guess I don’t know you at all.”
Andromeda shot me an accusatory look. “Precisely. You never tried to get to know me.”
She was right. In school I was concerned with one thing: succeeding. I considered anyone who didn’t share my goals as a pointless waste of time. As an average, C student, Andromeda didn’t warrant a shred of my attention. In fact, up until the whole business with Sirius, I hadn’t even learned her name.
I stared at Andromeda in silence. I had nothing more to say. If she was waiting for an apology, I wasn’t giving her one. I didn’t have the benefit of high family connections. I had to earn every success with sweat and dedication.
Andromeda stood. “Commander Barliss will make the announcement in an hour. You have that much time to change your mind.”
She rushed to the door as if evacuating a nuclear spill and pressed the panel. Her shoulders rose and fell like she was breathing deeply to calm herself. The conversation hadn’t gone smoothly for either of us.
As the particles dematerialized, I bolted forward and tugged on her shoulder. “Wait.”
She turned around and raised an eyebrow.
I knew she was expecting me to change my mind, but that wasn’t why I’d called her back. “Who are the other members of the team?”
Andromeda stepped on the other side of the portal. “Lyra Bryan, field work assistant; Gavin McGraw, interpreter. Alcor Dunstable, medic.” She slammed her palm on the panel, and her words traveled through the swirling particles as they rematerialized. “Sirius Smith, navigator.”