Kieran watched the video, which showed clips of his own birth. Kieran was naturally shy, so it was uncomfortable to have the entire human species know what he looked like, slimy and screaming after emerging from his mother’s womb. But he was used to it. Kieran was the first successful deep space birth. When he was born there was a great celebration, not only on the Empyrean, but probably back on Earth as well, which was why Kieran had been chosen to host the webvision broadcasts. He never got to decide what was said on his show; he only read the news. His job was very simple: Give the people of Earth a reason to believe that Earth-origin life would not go extinct. Give them hope that even if they themselves could not immigrate to the new home world, maybe their grandchildren could.
The video was drawing to a close, and Kieran straightened in his chair.
“Five, four, three…,” Sammy whispered.
“Unfortunately, things didn’t go as well on our sister ship, the New Horizon. Though their scientists worked very hard, the women aboard the New Horizon never got pregnant.”
Kieran’s heart pounded. He had never heard this before. As far as he and everyone else knew, there were lots of children aboard the New Horizon, just as there were on the Empyrean. Now he realized that communication between the two ships had been minimal for a long time. Had that been intentional?
Sammy, whose face had turned ashen behind his round spectacles, made an urgent gesture for Kieran to keep reading.
“No one knows why the New Horizon kept their fertility problems a secret,” he went on, “but recently they’ve slowed their progress in order to rendezvous with the Empyrean, so we expect to find out soon.”
The theme music began, an upbeat melody with piano and strings, and Kieran tried to match the cheerful tone with his own voice. “This has been webvision broadcast number two hundred forty-seven from the Empyrean. I’m Kieran Alden, signing off.”
When the music faded away, Kieran heard shouting. The Captain, normally calm and self-possessed, was yelling so loudly that Kieran could hear him through the metal walls of his office.
“I don’t care what you think you’re going to do! You’re not boarding this ship until I review the situation with my Central Council!”
He was silent for a moment but soon began shouting again, even louder. “I’m not refusing a meeting. Come aboard in a OneMan and we’ll have one.”
Silence.
“I don’t understand why you need to bring an entire crew, ma’am, if all you want is a conversation.”
Silence, an angry one. When the Captain spoke again, it was with intimidating calm: “I’ve given you no reason whatever to distrust me. I have never lied to you, or deviated from the mission plan without an explanation.… Oh, that’s just paranoid trash! There was no sabotage! I keep telling you!”
Kieran heard the Captain pacing. He felt guilty eavesdropping, but he couldn’t stop himself. Judging from the hush in the room, neither could anybody else.
“If our two vessels cannot work together…”
Suddenly Sammy was in motion again, flicking switches on the studio console until the screen behind Kieran’s desk glowed with a video image from the starboard side of the Empyrean.
Someone in the room gasped.
The New Horizon loomed on the screen, huge and shadowy, close enough for individual portholes to be seen with the naked eye. At first Kieran thought the image must be magnified, but with a tightening in his gut, he knew this wasn’t the case. In the short time it had taken him to do the show, the New Horizon had closed the three hundred kilometers between the two ships and was now cruising alongside the Empyrean at extremely close range.
Why?
A subtle movement caught Kieran’s eye, a tiny dot moving like an insect away from the New Horizon, toward the Empyrean. From its bulletlike shape, he guessed it must be a shuttle craft, the kind of vessel designed to carry the colonists and their equipment from the larger ships on short missions to the surface of New Earth. These shuttles were never intended for deep space travel or for docking from one ship to the other, but that was what this one was doing now. Whoever was aboard was clearly planning to land on the Empyrean.
“Oh, my God.” Sheryl sat in the makeup chair, hands clamped over her pink mouth.
“How many people do those things carry?” asked Sammy, sounding bewildered and frightened.
The Captain burst out of his office and pointed at Sammy. “This is an attack,” he announced. “Sammy, tell the Central Council to meet me in the starboard shuttle bay.”
As an afterthought he added, “Call a security squad, too. Hell, call all of them.”
Kieran’s heartbeat tripped crazily. His mother was on a volunteer security squad, working every now and then to settle a dispute between crew members or help out during a community event. The squads never carried weapons.
“What’s happening, Captain?” Kieran asked, his voice cracking.
The Captain put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Honestly, Kieran,” he confessed, “I just don’t know.”
IN THE GARDEN
“Everything we have, they have,” Waverly repeated under her breath as she marched down the corridor toward the living quarters she shared with her mother. Sometimes it seemed the more serious Kieran got about her, the more patronizing his tone. If he thought that she was going to be a passive little wifey with no thoughts of her own, he was in for a nasty surprise.
Still, of all the boys near her age on the ship, he seemed to be the best, and not just because he was tallish and well made. He was kind, and intelligent, and she liked how energetic he was, how lithe his body was, and how well he controlled it. She liked looking at his face, at his long jawline, his pale tawny eyes, the red hairs that grew on his upper lip. And when she talked to him, he bent down and trained his ear on her as though he couldn’t bear to miss a single word. He would make a good husband. She should consider herself lucky.
But there was doubt inside of her. Everyone expected them to marry, including the Captain and their parents, and she wondered if that pressure had made Kieran propose. Did they love each other enough to be happy together? If there weren’t concerns about fertility, would she marry Kieran, or anyone, right now? She wasn’t sure. Few people would have sympathy for her hesitation. There were larger concerns at play than her mere happiness.
She opened the door to her quarters and walked into the living room. Remnants of hemp and cotton covered the dining table, the leavings of a dress Waverly had been trying to sew with little success. She’d had to rip out every seam she’d put in and was considering throwing the whole mess away. Her mother’s loom stood in the corner, strung with wool yarns in a blue stripe—probably a blanket for someone. The walls were covered with family photos: of Waverly as a chubby toddler; of her mother and father rosy cheeked, holding hands in the cold conifer bay; of her grandparents with their melancholy eyes, left behind so long ago on Earth. There were pictures of Earth’s oceans, and mountains, and white clouds in a pale sky. “I wish you could have seen the sky,” her mother often said, which Waverly always thought so strange. She was in the sky, wasn’t she? She was surrounded by it. But no, her mother insisted, she had never seen it. She wouldn’t see the sky until they landed on New Earth in forty-five years.
Waverly heard pounding in the kitchen. “Mom!” she called.
“In here!” her mother answered.
Regina Marshall was tall and brunette, just like Waverly, though she wasn’t as slim. She was kneading dough for rough peasant’s bread and kept her back to her daughter as she worked. When it was bread-baking day, Waverly had trouble getting her mother’s attention, but she knew today would be different.
“Kieran proposed,” Waverly announced.
Regina whirled around, nuggets of dough flying from her hands, and with two eager steps she had Waverly in her arms. “I knew it! I’m so happy!”
“You are?” Waverly asked, wriggling in her mother’s tight hug. “Really?”
“Waverly, he’s
the best boy on this ship. Everyone thinks so.” Regina’s eyes shone. “Did you set a date?”
“No. It seems strange to plan for anything right now.”
“You mean because of the other ship? Life goes on, honey.”
“But don’t you think it’s strange—”
“Oh, let’s not spoil the occasion with that talk,” Regina said lightly, but Waverly saw the anxiety in her eyes. “The corn harvest is in a few weeks. Why not have the ceremony right after, when people are ready to relax?”
“So soon?”
“There’ll be some lovely flowers. The lilies will be blooming.”
Waverly sat down at the table, set for two. “I think Kieran’s going to want a religious service.”
“Yuck.” Regina wrinkled her nose. “That’s one thing about the Aldens no one can understand. Why they weren’t chosen for the other ship…”
“The other ship?”
“Oh, you know this.” Regina returned to her bread, kneading the dough with floury hands. “The people who designed the mission chose the crews for each ship on the basis of values, for group cohesion. So we ended up with one secular ship, one religious.”
“Is that why the other ship came back? To convert us or something?”
Regina shaped the loaf and set it on the counter. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I think something strange is going on. They’ve been here for days, but no one has come aboard.”
“That we know of.”
“And the Captain must be talking to them. Why doesn’t he tell us what they want?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Regina said sharply. She never liked when Waverly speculated about the Captain, as though keeping Waverly quiet would keep her safe. From what, Waverly never knew. When Regina turned around, though, she had a twinkle in her eye. “You’ve got a wedding to plan.”
Waverly sighed. “You were twenty-five when you married Dad, right? And you dated him for two years.”
“Yes, sweetie. But things have changed. You’re at your most fertile now. We can’t take any chances with the next generation.”
Waverly had heard this a million times. “It’s just so soon.”
“It’s never too soon when you’re talking about the survival of the species. You know that.”
The mission was the most important thing in everyone’s life. It had to be. The survival of the human race depended on it. Strong young crews from both ships were needed to settle on their new planet and get it ready to support human life, and that meant that all the girls on the voyage had to have at least four babies each. Everyone expected Waverly to marry and be a mother as soon as possible. End of discussion.
Waverly didn’t know how to ask for time to let her heart catch up to her duty.
“I wish your father were here,” Regina said. “I get so angry when I think about—”
“It was an accident, Mom. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
Regina seemed to retreat inside herself at the memory of her husband’s death. For a moment, Waverly thought she noticed a vague fear pass over her mother’s features, and a possibility came into her mind that she’d never allowed herself to entertain before.
“Mom. It was an accident, right?”
“Of course it was, honey,” she said with a tight smile.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Regina took her daughter in her arms. “I just meant I’m angry it happened at all. You’re right, there’s no one to blame.”
“Okay,” Waverly said slowly. Ever since the other ship had arrived, her mother had been acting strangely conflicted, and her expression was always brooding when she didn’t know Waverly was watching. But whenever Waverly asked her about it, she’d smile brightly and say nothing was wrong, she was just getting old.
“I just miss your father so much at times like this,” Regina said wistfully.
“Would he like Kieran?” Waverly had been so young when her father died that he was practically a stranger.
“I think he would. I like Kieran. He’ll be good to you.”
“He’ll have to be,” Waverly said. “I know just how to punish him if he isn’t.”
“Hey now,” Regina said reprovingly. “Just because you can make Kieran walk out an air lock for you doesn’t mean that you should.”
“Don’t worry. He’s not as spineless as he seems. He just needs…” Waverly trailed off. She wasn’t sure what Kieran needed. He might not have the same stubborn core inside of him that she had, but she suspected there was something strong in him, deep down. He was a thoughtful, quiet person, and he considered things deeply before he would speak about them. With time he could learn to be a good leader, she thought. But this was one of the things she wanted to find out before they married. “He’ll toughen himself up,” she said, hoping it was true.
“I suspect marriage to you will be more than enough to toughen that poor boy,” Regina said with a playful swat. “Have you checked the garden today?”
“I’ll go now.” She wanted to be alone anyway, and working in the loose soil always calmed her mind.
Down the corridor and two flights of stairs, the family gardens were in the center of the ship in a bay so large that it was difficult to see from one end to the other. The lamps over the plants were set to a noontime glow, and the heat felt good on her shoulders as she walked between the rows of squash, tomatoes, lettuce, and broccoli. Every family aboard the Empyrean had their own plot where they cultivated an array of heirloom vegetables. Because there was no way of knowing which crops would flourish on New Earth, everyone grew different strains. Waverly had chosen a pretty yellow tomato to grow, a plant that produced a delicate, tart fruit. They didn’t taste as good as true red tomatoes, but they were so beautiful. She knelt before the largest plant, near the main walkway. One fruit hung fat and golden, almost ready to be picked, and she fingered the smooth skin. She was tempted to take it now for dinner but decided to give it one more day to ripen. Instead, she pulled a weed.
“You sure have grown up.”
Startled, Waverly looked up to see Mason Ardvale, the ship’s head pilot, leaning on the fence that bordered her plot. He was almost as old as Captain Jones, who was his good friend. Waverly had never really liked him, and she’d grown to like him even less in the last two years when he started looking at her in a new, slithery way.
“I didn’t see you there,” she said uneasily.
He smoothed a strand of fine blond hair out of his eyes. “I saw you.”
She shrugged and went back to pulling weeds, but when she looked up, he was still there.
“Everyone’s in a tizzy these days. People think I’ll tell them things because I’m the head pilot.” His chest swelled as he said this, and Waverly wondered if he was trying to impress her. “I get tired of getting asked questions I’m not allowed to answer.”
He looked at her as though tempting her to ask, but she didn’t want to play his game. Instead she said, “Can you blame them for being curious? After forty-two years alone out here, suddenly we have neighbors.”
“Don’t be too worried about that,” Mason said with a crooked grin. “If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, ignoring his innuendo. “I just think everyone would be more at ease if the Captain would explain what they’re doing here.”
“You’re not on this ship to worry about things like that.”
“Oh no?” she challenged.
“You’re for other things,” he said slowly.
Waverly sat back on her heels and gave him a cool stare. When his smile faded, she said, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t expect a grown man not to notice you. Not unless he’s blind.”
Waverly picked up her trowel. “It’s none of your business what I expect.”
“Is that so?” With a gleeful smile, he started over the fence that separated them.
Waverly sprang to her feet and threw her t
rowel at him, missing his face by inches. “Stay where you are.”
He ducked, then glared at her. “You could have taken out my eye!”
“Everyone on this ship knows what a creep you are, Mason Ardvale. All the girls laugh at you.”
“Dad?” Mason’s son, Seth, came down the walkway toward them, carrying a bale of straw. “What’s going on?”
“Go to the plot,” Mason barked. “I’ll be there in a second.”
“I can wait.” Seth dropped the bale and sat on it, his sullen eyes on his father.
Is he trying to protect me? Waverly wondered.
“You shouldn’t throw things at people,” Mason said to Waverly. “That’s not the way for a young lady to behave.”
“That’s right. I’m young, Mason,” Waverly said. She picked up a hand rake, tossed it in the air, and caught it in her fist. “I’m not for you.”
A dark look passed over Mason’s features, but he tilted his head toward the sound of laughter coming from the back of the room. Mrs. Turnbull and her husband were digging up turnips, well within earshot. He backed away from her, oily and slow, picked up a sack of mulch, and went on his way down the furrowed path. Seth stayed behind.
“He’s not how he seems,” Seth said, unable to look her in the eye. He picked up the trowel Waverly had thrown and handed it to her.
“Thanks for sticking around.”
Seth nodded, embarrassed.
Seth was unpopular aboard the ship, but Waverly had always felt an affinity for him. The same accident that took her father had also killed his mother. Seth was a few months younger than her, but already his bones were heavy, his voice deep, and his jewel blue eyes piercing. Waverly had always noticed his eyes, ever since they sat next to each other in fourth grade.
Once, when they were still little, Seth had even kissed her in the playroom. They’d been working together on a puzzle, and she’d been conscious of his steady breathing and how he moistened his lip with a quick tongue. She’d just put in the last piece and smiled at him. “We did it!”