Chapter 4

MARK

The window overlooked the city with the walls taking up the horizon. The sun appeared trapped in a long setting that would continue for fifty days, only rising for half of regular daylight hours. The great walls kept the sandstorms out and the climate within semi-controlled for comfort. There was once a time when the North flourished in life, but those times have long passed. The world was dying, and Tiir was a prime example of Kushan kind’s struggle to continue on it. 

Before dealing with the problems of his withering planet, however, Mark had to deal with the ache in his head. Hungover on launch day, good job. Criticizing himself wasn’t going to help.

He decided to grab some food. His father was nowhere to be seen when he entered the crowded lobby on the main floor which came as no surprise to him, but it would have been nice to see him before launch as he’d have no other opportunity to. He grabbed what he could and went back up to his room, carefully avoiding daylight. He wasn’t ready for that this many hours before noon.

Walking down the hall, he saw the girl from the night before waiting in front of his door in casual attire. “Hi!” she squealed, making him flinch almost dropping the bowl of oatmeal he had balanced on a yogurt cup. He hadn’t thought this through. How was he supposed to get the door open with no free hands? She rolled her eyes and reached in his pocket for the keycard. “Morning to you too,” she said grinning. He groaned a response, and she opened the door. He put breakfast on the table as she dimmed out the windows. “One of those, huh?” She massaged his head a bit before sitting down.

“You’re lucky you’re cute because otherwise I’d probably kick you out. Any particular reason you’re here?” he asked.

“Meanie. Not really, I’m going alone up to Scaffold and was wondering if you’d like company. Annoying someone who’s hungover is a fun bonus, though.” Wincing, he picked up his spoon and continued eating.

“I guess putting up with you would be better than going alone considering I’ve got no idea where I should be once up there. You’ll find I’m not as likeable a person sober as last night though, Isabella was it?.”

“I never said you were likeable,” she joked.

He tried to finish his food as they continued to banter. Her telling him he needed to shower to stop smelling like booze and get the grease and sand out of his hair, and him saying she shouldn’t be creeping on people by waiting around their doors for them. “Why the interest in me, anyway? You’re accompanying the Mothership voyage, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but maybe I like the idea of hanging out with a semi-celebrity with no negative consequences. Some bragging rights there,” she said.

“Nah, you don’t seem the type,” he replied. “Fangirls usually take advantage of the opportunity alone in a room with me to do creepy weird things.”

“I’m sure you have so many of those among the general population,” she laughed.

“A man can dream, Izzy!”

“Yeah the name, that one is a no-go for me. Alright, I was hoping you’d, well, this is embarrassing but I was hoping I could get some pointers if we’ve got free time docked with Khar-Selim.” She took a deep breath and continued. “It’ll be hard to believe but I’m probably one of the senior-most pilots headed out with the voyage.”

“No way, how old even are you? Like, eighteen?”

“Twenty and a half! Don’t laugh, that’s not important,” she threw back. “I’m a rank six pilot, but that means nothing if you don’t have the skill to back it up. I feel like I was given my position without really deserving it.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know, I hear all these stories from people who’ve done crazy stunts to deserve some kind of promotion, but here I am, haven’t done anything out of program to deserve my last two.”

“Not everyone does. Besides, the braggers are usually full of themselves among other things. There’s no more war, even the terrorist factions are nowhere near as aggressive as back in my dad’s day. Rank hardly means much anymore, if that makes you feel any better about it.”

“I guess. I’d still like to feel like I deserve it, though. And I don’t. It’s all handed to you for working hard to follow the program and what then if something does happen on the journey? How many of us high rankers, if rank does in fact mean very little, will stand any better a chance than newbies?”

“I know what you mean. Sure, we can go over a few things if you want, but I’m sure you’re wrong about not being good enough.”

“How would you know?”

“Uh, hello? My father pretty much runs the air force. He said you were alright, more of a compliment than I got from him until I pulled my class seven granting stunt.” Hearing this seemed to cheer her up. “You don’t get this far without deserving it. Despite what people might say, I know I’m a good pilot. There’s no nepotistic advantage in our field of work. I’ve worked my ass off in the flight academy as I’m sure you have as well, maybe just don’t realize it looking back. Rank might not matter but that doesn’t mean you’re not up to the challenge. Rank seven is essentially an informal graduation, since rarely are there any who pass that point. You’re one step away and you’re only twenty. Take pride in that. The hardest part, I think, will be the microgravity. Otherwise, just do what you normally do and be creative about it when the opportunity arrises.”

She looked up with a shrug and took some fruit. “I’ve made up my mind. You’re alright.” They quickly shared a smile before he stood up.

“Back to schedule, I have to shower and I don’t trust you to not walk in on me, so you’re gonna have to pack up and wait.” He rushed her out of the room before she could argue. He thought he heard giggling from outside.

***

He stayed in the running water longer than reasonable. It was decidedly necessary considering his state of mind. The end of the conversation brought back flashes of the incident two years before. There were reasons for his avoidance of the topic. He claimed to forget the time on the island when asked. He remembered all too well.

However, there was much to do still and there wasn’t time to stand there reminiscing in the dripping water. Everything he had to bring fit in his backpack. She, on the other hand, had plenty more. And, as her travel guest, he was stuck with some of it. They called a cab and Mark arranged for his bike to be brought out of storage when he got back. Isabella could not stop speaking the entire trip to the spaceport, asking him questions of all sorts about his childhood, about his father, about his misadventures in flight academy; the only thing that would get her to stop speaking was when he was.

“So you knew Karan Sjet? Wow!” He decided his childhood was an easier tale to tell than much else of his life. “And these farmers, do you still talk to them?”

“No. I haven’t thought about it. I guess I created a new life for myself and decided to forget the old. I sometimes regret that, but it’s been so many years now and they’re on the other side of the planet. There’s not much to be done about it now.”

“Well, take it from someone who’s been raised by everyone but my parents, you should get in touch when you get back.” This made him wonder what her story was, but they were at the entrance gates to the spaceport.

“Passports, please.” Mark gave theirs, the man stamped them, and sent them on their way. The man also handed them each a red and blue boarding pass. “The red one’s for the transport and the blue’s for the Mothership. You might wanna hurry, launch is in fifteen minutes.”

“Hurry!” he shouted at her grabbing her bags. They were taken once they got to the ship and stored for the ride. Getting onto the transport there were ticket collectors who took their red passes. They were guided to a nearly empty room going aft. They had barely time to sit down before a voice came on the speakers.

“Transport Seven, you are clear for launch.” Lights dimmed and machinery could be heard starting up.

“Talk about a close call,” she said.

“This is the captain speaking. We’ll be launching in thirty. Buckle up and enjoy your flight.” He then laughed, and Mark wasn’t sure if he should be comforted or uneasy by this last message. She looked calm, he decided to appear the same. He hadn’t been off-world before. Many had; it wasn’t uncommon to take a luxury trip into orbit. Tourism helped fund the expenses for the rapid expansion of their space program the last two generations.

He listened intently to the countdown, bracing himself for… he wasn’t quite sure. “Here comes the fun,” she said as the captain finished. What came next was a deafening roar unlike any he’d ever heard. There was a shudder and could feel himself being pushed down in his seat ever so slightly. He looked out the window. The spaceport faded into the rest of Tiir’s glimmering metalwork. The city itself was then swallowed in a never-ending sea of light brown sand. They passed through a cloud or two, and after that there was only a feint blue glow separating them and the blackness of the void. Gradually, the engine’s thunder grew quieter and quieter until it became little more than a background hum. He figured they were now in orbit. His necklace floated in front of his eyes before the artificial gravity kicked in. When it did, he threw his hands out in front of him. He barely made it to the trash bin. He could hear her laugh very clearly from a few rows back.

“We all have a first time,” the guy in the seat closest said. “You’ll get used to it by the time we reach Scaffold.”

“Hope so,” he replied wiping his mouth.

“The name’s Johan of the Naabal. John works too.”

“Mark Soban.” He took the time to look back at the planet and didn’t regret it; the view was unforgettable. For millennia Kushan kind thought of Kharak as a hostile wasteland. A hell to endure for past sins, some would say. From where he stood, he saw the true beauty it had to offer.

“That’s another thing we all get the first time around. It’s surprising, right?”

“An understatement.” Long white cloud bands covered the deserts, with the blue Majiirian to the South. Northern seas were visible as well, but not as magnificent. He captured it with his phone’s camera. He had to make it last.

There was a while before arrival, so John moved back to where they were sitting to get acquainted. He was a captain in rank, he would be commanding either a resource ship or any other support vessel assigned to him.

“Quite a few high-rankers on this transport,” he said.

“Cromell Soban a few rows ahead, head of security aboard the colony ship,” she pointed out.

“Leonard Naabal is on an upper deck too,” John added. Strike command, their boss. “A test launch procedure was conducted a few days ago on-world. Essential bridge personnel are all on their way up now.”

“Why on-world? Wouldn’t it make more sense to do it in the actual bridge?”

“Couldn’t tell you, I’m sure they had their reasons. John’s entire family was on a cryogenic tray. Mark explained that he wasn’t staying for the journey, he had a life back home he cared too much to give up. “I understand that, the only way I would go along is if every member of my family could come too.”

“I thought candidates were chosen by lottery?” She said.

“Not all. I shouldn’t be saying this, but the Sleepers are specifically chosen candidates. The best and brightest of our people, all of them younger than thirty. In fact, most of Mothership crew members are under thirty too other than the senior officers of the bridge.

“I’m not sure if I should feel upset or flattered,” she replied. “Why hasn’t Mark been asked then if they bring your loved ones along for the ride?”

“I was. I declined.”