DAY 101, 8:01 A.M.
Aboard Genesis 11
Babel’s efficiency knows no bounds. The next morning, Kaya’s name has been struck out on every scoreboard. The others discuss it as I sit down for breakfast. They think she quit. I can’t make myself say it. They deserve to hear it from someone other than Babel, but I’m too ashamed to even look them in the eye. I fill up a plate of food to kill time, but I don’t eat a thing.
Defoe arrives. His black suit could be an attempt at mourning, but his eyes and his voice aren’t sad as they deliver the news. To him, Kaya was just a potential employee. I hate him for it.
“Last night, Kaya was killed in an accident.”
The truth strikes like lightning. The others stare. My mouth begs to explain, to say that this was Babel’s fault, but Defoe silences me with a look. He allows time for the others to react. This will be a lesson. No one is safe. Anyone can fall, even the smartest one in the group. I hear the others whisper, and I hate myself for saying nothing. This isn’t right.
“Only nine remain.”
He allows this to sink in as well. I want to hate him for it, but I thought the same thing when I woke up this morning. One less person to take my spot. I couldn’t shower away the guilt of thinking something like that, not with all the hot water on Genesis 11.
“This does change our outlook. We didn’t plan on losing any of you before arriving at Eden. Without Kaya, we have only three female competitors remaining. Our on-planet projections show that at least three are necessary for optimal team function. We believe this would happen organically in the competition, but Kaya’s death has forced our hand.”
I’m too tired, too lost to understand. Roathy slams a fist into the table. The others look on edge, so Defoe goes on.
“Jazzy, Isadora, Azima—you will move on to Eden.”
The three of them look shocked. Azima wasn’t likely to lose, but Jazzy and Isadora were in the bottom four. It was going to be hard enough for me to catch one of them after my punishment. Now I can’t even do that. I glance up at the scoreboard:
My points have been subtracted. Babel’s penalty for my guilt is such a small thing. I’m just nine thousand points behind Roathy, but it feels more like ninety thousand. If Kaya’s not here, how can I possibly go on?
For a second, I’m worried about winning, about money, about home. The second burns by quickly, though, as I remember Kaya’s crossed-out name on the scoreboard. I hate Defoe for turning our eyes to the competition instead of to her. I hate that we’re thinking about beating each other instead of honoring the person we’ve lost. The person I killed. It’s the kind of hate and anger that can’t be turned into anything else, that can’t be converted into fuel.
As the week goes by, I lose everything. The swimming tank makes me feel like I’m drowning. The classroom lectures are a distant voice. In the pit, I can’t force myself to throw a punch. Bilal sits beside me at every meal.
“If you want to talk about it,” he says, “I’m here.”
He doesn’t dig deeper when I shake my head. He doesn’t ask about the points I lost or what happened. He just stays by my side and honors Kaya’s absence with his silent presence. I can barely find the words to thank him.
Defoe is the only one who knows what happened, and he’s the only one who carries on like nothing has changed. I realize that, for him, nothing has changed. I file it away under A for Asshole. He escorts us down to the Rabbit Room on yet another endless day in what feels like an endless week. I stand there like the dead until Jaime says something about needing a new strategy. I burst out laughing. It’s abrupt and frightening. I can’t help but belly laugh, though, as I remember one of the last things Kaya told me before she died. Her new strategy for the Rabbit Room.
“All right,” I say. “This is what we’re going to do. For Kaya.”
Azima, Isadora, Jaime, and I line up near the center of the room. Defoe swipes his data pad and the room churns to life. The digital forest flickers on the wall screen and the race begins. Isadora swings over to the far left as we planned. She sets a steady pace as Jaime, Azima, and I transform our nyxian rings into thick handheld shields. As the pace picks up, we drift toward the center of the room, where the mesh tennis net divides us from the other team. On my signal, we all leap over it and into enemy territory.
“For Kaya!” I shout.
My battle cry is echoed, and the other team looks terrified as we come crashing into their formation. It’s chaos. I ram Longwei and kick my legs out to trip Bilal. Jazzy almost ducks away, but Azima snags her by the arm, and the whole group falls in a tangle. Someone’s foot hooks around my neck, but all I can do is laugh as we slide helplessly to the back wall. The room lights up like fireworks.
Isadora’s still running for our team, though, and a few seconds later the tread floor stops.
Defoe looks radiant, clapping as he walks over to us.
“Finally, someone is thinking outside the box.”
He’s looking at me, like it was my plan.
“It was Kaya,” I say firmly. “She came up with it.”
“For Kaya,” Azima repeats.
She slings an arm around me and the others crowd close. They speak the phrase as we all leave the Rabbit Room together. That evening, I linger in the multipurpose room. I’m afraid to go back to our room without Kaya. I’m afraid to wake up to my first Sabbath without her as my teammate, as my friend. The others eventually retreat, though, and I’m forced back to where I first met her.
My suit glows and the door slides open. I go to my own room and start undressing. The mirror doesn’t indicate that my heart’s been broken. It doesn’t have a measure for my hopelessness either. It just ticks off the beats and counts the calories, like those are any way to measure life. I sit on the edge of the bed until I hear knocks. The sound echoes through the walls. I drag my suit across the room and scan it, and the door whisks open.
My friends come storming inside.
Katsu holds an open carton of ice cream. “Sleepover!” he shouts.
Bilal is carrying pillows and blankets. He tosses them down and gives me a hug. Jazzy, Azima, and Jaime file into the room behind him. “Thanks,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”
Bilal nods over to Jaime. “It was his idea.”
Jaime looks over and nods once. “We didn’t want you to be alone.”
His kindness levels me. I reach out a hand and he shakes it.
“I’m sorry about everything,” I tell him. “All that stuff at the beginning.”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. It’s in the past.”
After Jaime explained his idea to the others, Katsu went down to the kitchens and stole the ice cream. Bilal found movies to watch and Jazzy gathered the extra pillows.
The night blurs. We eat out of a massive carton of ice cream and watch old Disney cartoons that are in all the wrong languages. Everyone honors Kaya, saying something nice about her. I’m surprised how often she offered her kindness to the others. I selfishly believed she only spoke to me that way, but in just a few months she helped each of them when they needed it.
I fall asleep on the floor next to Bilal. Katsu sleeps beside him, snoring like a plane engine. Jazzy and Azima sleep on my bed, while Jaime retreats to the couch. Kaya’s absence brings the broken boys and girls together, even if it’s just for a night.