Page 6 of The Tomb--A Novel


  Seth stiffened. “What?”

  “It means you’re not really a prince.” She cocked her left arm and punched him in the face with everything she had.

  The jolt sent a sharp rush of pain through her knuckles and wrist.

  Seth staggered back, mouth hanging open as he held his hands over his right eye.

  Kiva winced as she cradled her hand. “And you never were.” She stalked off down the corridor.

  7

  Back in the Tomb’s control room or bridge or whatever the appropriate term—Kiva couldn’t care less—she collapsed in what she decided to claim as her rightful chair. She was light-headed and her legs felt weak and her pulse raced from what she had just done.

  Hitting Seth had been far from the best decision, but she didn’t think she could have stopped herself. In fact, she knew she couldn’t.

  She gently massaged the knuckles of her left hand.

  Every throb was worth it.

  Without a word, Seth sat down in the other chair, one hand still over his eye. He swiped the other across the console in front of him and leaned over to scrutinize whatever was on the screen.

  Kiva knew, deep down, that an apology would be the right thing to do. But after being so smug and mean, he had deserved it.

  And she was, most definitely, not even close to being sorry. The ranks of liars would have to make do without her membership.

  Her stomach rumbled. She slapped a hand over it, as if to silence her hunger.

  “You should eat something.”

  Kiva didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”

  Seth’s tone was didactic. “It’s only a matter of time before you get light-headed.”

  Too late. “I’m fine.” She was tired of him telling her everything because she knew nothing. And she didn’t want to rely on him, even if it meant starving.

  He left.

  “Good riddance.” After two tries, she failed to get the recording of her mother going again. She tried to remember what Seth had said before to stop the playback. “Um, start playback?”

  “Starting playback.”

  After several minutes of listening to her mother try to explain—more like defend—the deception, Kiva couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop playback.”

  “Stopping playback.”

  She wanted to know the truth, the details, but not from one of those directly responsible for perpetrating the lies. Though no longer filled with terror and desperation, she suspected both the confusion and anger would hang around for a while.

  But she needed some space, away from her mother.

  Away from everyone.

  She wanted to watch the Earth vid-docs that Seth had mentioned. Maybe they would tell her more about the background of her current reality than her mother, or Seth, ever could.

  “Here.” Seth set a red bowl in front of her, a silver fork stuck in a pile of pale, steaming noodles.

  Kiva’s mouth watered at the enticing, buttery smell. She held her face over the bowl and inhaled.

  “Smells were the first thing I noticed too.”

  She glanced up at him and sucked in a breath at the sight of the skin around his right eye already bruising. A twinge of guilt popped into her gut.

  He shrugged. “The virtual reality on Krakatoa was amazing. You could hear, see, touch, feel pain…”

  Kiva’s hand absently went to her shoulder, which had been injured in the earthquake, now completely fine. No wonder Fai had been so dismissive about her injury.

  “… but it lacked some things,” continued Seth. “Like scents.”

  That explained why Kiva reacted so strongly to being close to him. He was the first person she had truly smelled. She leaned over the bowl of noodles, a close second in terms of gut reaction. She had to admit, he was kind to bring her food.

  But she forced her hands still. “I’m not hungry.” Her stomach rumbled, betraying her.

  “Gods, you’re stubborn. Just eat it.”

  She hesitated.

  Seth dropped into his chair. “I know you’re mad. But it’s my job to make sure we stay alive, and food is part of it. As you’re about to find out, taste is another area where virtual reality doesn’t quite measure up.”

  He made the meal out of obligation?

  Well, that should make the noodles taste extra good. Kiva swallowed her scorn, picked up the fork, and tentatively poked at them.

  “They’re freeze-dried and have to be reconstituted. Very processed. But not bad.” Seth went back to whatever he was doing on his monitor.

  The first bite proved to be blander than expected. But the act of eating, if not the taste itself, felt familiar, unlike anything else she’d experienced in the last half hour. And she had to admit, the real thing was far better than the apparently fake eating in Alexandria. And despite preferring to cease conversation with Seth, her questions were probably not going to be addressed by the vid-docs of Earth. “What did we eat in torpor?”

  “We didn’t.” He pointed at her arm.

  She stuck the fork in the noodles and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a bandage on her arm that seemed to start itching the moment she noticed it.

  “Tubes gave us what we needed to stay alive. It’ll heal fast.” Seth pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, showing a faint scar.

  Completely healed.

  “Oh nice,” spat Kiva. “Mine will look like that in, what would you say? About three years?”

  Seth yanked his sleeve back down.

  Kiva held the bowl up and began to eat with more gusto.

  “You better slow down.” Seth frowned. “Your digestive system was in torpor too. Might take a while to adjust to solid food.”

  Kiva ignored him and shoveled it in.

  He sighed. “I’m trying to help here.”

  Kiva raised her eyebrows. “A little late, don’t you think?” She pushed more noodles into her mouth.

  Seth muttered, “Suit yourself.”

  The noodles were gone within minutes.

  The warm, full feeling in her previously hollow belly vanquished any lingering doubt as to whether this was her reality or not. She sighed with contentment. Virtual life could not mimic a satisfying meal. “Can I watch those vid-docs you told me about?”

  Seth pointed at the screen before her. “It’s all on there.”

  She didn’t feel like listening to Hermione again, so she tapped the icon in the hopes of deactivation.

  Even though she had never touched an actual computer before, all of the motions of searching on it seemed familiar, in a fuzzy, déjà vu kind of way. If that had been the intent of their education in Alexandria, to prepare them for the day when they would return to the future, so to speak, then Kiva had to admit the adults had done well.

  But moments after she began watching a vid-doc about plate tectonics and the super volcano under Yellowstone, her stomach gurgled. She inhaled sharply and set a hand over her mouth.

  “You okay?” asked Seth.

  She nodded, even though she was rapidly drifting far from the vicinity of okay. Her face was clammy, her throat felt full.

  “You’re going to be sick.”

  “No, I’m not—” But Kiva covered her mouth and ran for the door. Halfway there, she realized she didn’t even know where she was running. Before she had a chance to decide on a destination, she doubled over and threw up.

  Behind her, Seth groaned.

  A lurch in her stomach buckled her knees. The rest of the noodles came up. She covered her nose at the stench of the puddle of sick and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

  Seth said, “I did the same thing the first time I ate. And I know exactly how you feel right now, so I’m not going to say I told you so.”

  That didn’t make her feel like any less of an idiot.

  “You gonna be sick again?”

  She shook her head. Her stomach was empty once more.

  His hand touched her shoulder. Or maybe she imagined it.

  “Might want to stick to liquid
nutrition for a bit before you try solid food again.”

  Kiva nodded.

  “Go lie down. I’ll clean this up.”

  Kiva coughed. “No, I’ll—”

  Seth pulled her up by an arm. “There’s a bathroom in your cabin. One excellent perk to space travel is that we make our own water and you can have a long, hot shower.”

  Kiva couldn’t even look at him. She didn’t want him to clean up her mess, but she also knew she was not capable of it. Grateful, she mumbled a thank-you.

  “Hey. Kiva.”

  She paused, still facing away.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  He certainly had a funny way of showing it. Kiva blinked back tears.

  “I never hated you. It’s just…”

  She mumbled, “I have to go,” and quickly headed out the door for her cabin.

  * * *

  Kiva peeled up her shirt and wiped her face. “Don’t you dare cry over him.” She yanked the disgusting shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “Gods, I feel dirty.”

  In the bathroom, she leaned inside the shower.

  Directly below the silver spout, a silver box dotted by black buttons was perched on the white-tiled wall.

  A jab at the bottom button forced a rush of hot air at her from each corner of the stall, blowing her hair everywhere.

  “Stop stop stop.” A second push of that button stopped the flow.

  Kiva shook her hair out of her eyes and leaned farther back, stretching her arm into the shower. She touched the top button and hopped back, managing to avoid the gush of hot water.

  Within seconds, the small space had steamed up. She stripped, dropped the rest of her clothes on the floor, and stepped inside.

  Kiva shut her eyes and moaned. “Perfect.”

  Nothing in her experience had ever felt quite as marvelous as that hot water pummeling her shoulders and back.

  A memory flashed: Seth’s hand on hers.

  She did have to consider for a moment before dismissing it. “Not even close.” Her words were tinny in the echoing space as she slowly spun, allowing the water to flow down her face and front.

  Steeling herself, she pushed the second button from the top.

  A pink substance oozed out and she caught some in her palm. “Oh.” Shampoo like they’d had in Alexandria.

  Except … She held it to her nose.

  The smell was heavenly, sweet and fragrant. She knew, without knowing, that the scent belonged to some kind of flower.

  Did she remember that from when she was a child? Before she was sealed away in torpor?

  She lathered, piling her hair into a sudsy puff on top of her head.

  The third mystery button turned out to be body cleanser, a green gel that emanated citrus as she soaped up and rinsed.

  The heat sank into her skin and deeper still as it gradually loosened stiff muscles, unused until recently.

  I am never getting out.

  She was content to stand there for what seemed like hours.

  Finally, when the skin on her fingertips shriveled, she turned off the water and stood there, dripping.

  One touch of the bottom button and hot air enveloped her, drying her body, and even her long, thick hair, within moments.

  Kiva left the shower and slid open the door of a cabinet right beside it. An eye-level shelf held an assortment of tubes and bottles. She opened one tube, took a bit on her finger, and touched it to her tongue. Again, she knew without knowing.

  Another childhood remnant?

  They’d had toothpaste in Alexandria, although it had been explained as a paste made from a plant that grew by the river and, miraculously, also had fibers that worked as floss. Apparently, they wanted them to learn dental hygiene in virtual reality, even if it wasn’t exactly historically accurate.

  She wondered how all of that worked in torpor. Something else to ask Seth.

  “Now for clothes.” Kiva kicked aside the worn garments, hoping for clean ones.

  She swung open the doors of the cabinet by the bed and discovered stacks of shirts and pants and undergarments, exactly like she had just removed. “Yes.” After getting dressed, she went back into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She couldn’t stop running her tongue over her smooth, clean teeth, a feeling she never remembered having in Alexandria.

  No. Not Alexandria.

  She needed to call it what it was. “Virtual reality.”

  Alexandria wasn’t real, never had been.

  In front of the mirror, she combed snarls from her curls. She winced at a particularly stubborn tangle and wondered why there seemed to be no technology to make that chore less painful. In virtual reality, her hair had been straight and glossy and no fuss.

  She appraised her freckles.

  Why hadn’t she had them in Alexandria?

  Seth had looked different there, and so had her mother. Of course, there had been dark eye makeup and clothing and jewelry, but there was more to it. They looked mostly the same, but … a better version of themselves.

  Closer to perfect.

  Kiva thought about it. No one had freckles or flaws in Alexandria. Fai had some wrinkles, but she was basically ancient.

  Was it the virtual reality program? Were faultless replicas of people far simpler?

  Kiva leaned closer to the mirror. The green of her eyes was nice. The freckles too. And she liked that her skin was a little darker than in virtual reality. She liked how her mom looked in real life as well: shorter hair and blue eyes without all that black stuff.

  And Seth?

  His longish hair and his dark eyes and skin made him look quite …

  “Stop.” No more caring or even thinking about Seth. Maybe they were stuck on that ship, but she would not let herself be dependent on him any more than she had to. The vid-docs would teach her everything about her new reality … no … her only reality.

  There would be no more feeling dense, no more being the one who had to keep asking questions.

  After all, they’d sent her on this mission too.

  Maybe she was the daughter of someone who wasn’t even supposed to have survived Earth, but she would prove she deserved to be here, in this world. Plus, it was quite obvious that her mom had found her place as a contributing member of society. She could too.

  Kiva straightened her shoulders and nodded at her reflection. “I’m going to learn how to run this ship if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Her shoulders sagged.

  Unfortunately, that meant going back out to the bridge and facing Seth, who had actually cleaned up after her.

  That wouldn’t be awkward at all.

  She covered her face. “I can’t believe I did that.” Slowly, she lowered her hands and stared at her reflection. “Doesn’t matter. We’re in space. We have a mission. And he’s just going to have to deal with me.” She tapped on the mirror. “Us. He’s going to have to deal with us.” She rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow. We’ll wait until tomorrow.”

  The door whooshed open in the bedroom.

  “You in here?” asked Seth.

  “You could knock before you come in.” She glanced at herself quickly, making sure everything was in place before she stepped out of the bathroom.

  Seth stood by the open door. “Just checking to see if you’re okay.”

  Kiva raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

  He pointed at two buttons by the door. “Push the red for privacy. Green to open.”

  She hadn’t seen those before. Another reason to feel ignorant.

  “So? Feel better?”

  How could she feel better with him there? She wanted him to leave, let her get her thoughts together, let her process everything that had happened. She nodded simply to make him leave.

  He held out a thin device. “This can access all the same things as the large one on the bridge. You can watch the vid-docs about Earth. And there are others, about the ships, about everything. I thought you maybe wanted to stay in here.” He paused. “Be alone. Or
whatever.”

  Was he being nice? “Thanks.”

  He set it on the bed. “Just ask if you need help.”

  “I won’t. Need help, I mean.” Kiva didn’t move, didn’t uncross her arms.

  “Okay. Well, my cabin is down the hall.” He jabbed a thumb in the air. “Or I’ll be on the bridge.”

  “Got it.”

  He left.

  The door shut behind him.

  She let out a deep breath and perched on the edge of the bed. She laid a hand on the device, still warm from his touch.

  The door opened, Seth still there.

  Kiva jerked her hand away and popped up.

  He pointed at the button by the door. “You have to push the red for privacy.”

  “Got it.”

  He left and the door closed. Again.

  She sprinted over and slammed her hand onto the red button, then set her back to the wall and slid down to the floor, holding her face in her hands. If every day out of torpor was going to be like this one, maybe she was going to have to figure out how to put herself back in.

  8

  Kiva sighed, gave herself a moment to regroup, then moved to the bed. With the small device in her lap, she started the first vid-doc, a tutorial of the United States. She took note of the state of Texas, which her mom had mentioned, and then moved on to Wyoming and Yellowstone and the super volcano.

  She was motionless, enthralled by the visuals of the national park in normal times: stunning mountain vistas, herds of bison, roaming wolf packs, and thick, green forests. Geysers erupted, and turquoise and emerald pools of water steamed.

  Then the facts began, about the super eruptions.

  The Huckleberry Ridge eruption 2.1 million years before, the Mesa Falls eruption 1.3 million years, and later, the Lava Creek eruption. The three resulting calderas overlapped, and made up much of the land where Yellowstone sits.

  The narration went on to describe the results of another super eruption. The ash cloud and spewing of sulfur dioxide would disrupt agriculture, clog rivers and streams.

  Kiva stopped the vid-doc.

  The nature was amazing, so different than Alexandria.

  But she didn’t want to hear more speculation, because that had apparently been convincing enough that the government prepared for a way out.