His voice is as I remember it. Just like he whispered it in my ear yesterday. I tried to forget it, it's deep notes, the way it made me feel like I was crumbling under its bass.
The sound of our own communications operator blares out. "This is HMS Valediction base responding, Commander Freyer. What's your mayday?"
Dean returns. Panic, something I don't remember as part of his voice's range for as long as I've known him. "Mayday. Mayday. Requesting immediate assistance. Mayday. Mayday..."
The line dies. The static returns. "Commander Freyer? Are you there? Commander Freyer?"
When my eyes unfocus from their hard stare on the wall, I notice all three staring at me expectantly.
I want them to play it again, just to hear him say his own name—a name I tried to forget. One I tried to erase from my memory with long stints at hole-in-the-wall dives across the galaxy, drinking until my brain became a black void. Each stint on another planet created new memories to push out the old. Each order I took from Moon was another to squeeze away the past.
The implanted scales were supposed to help numb it all. And for the most part, they've worked. But even the scales can't stop my heart from reacting.
His voice. Here. In this room. Begging for help. It brings everything hurling back to the front of my mind.
"Do you know who that is?" Teeno asks.
Even Nuna is staring at me again, her eyes darkened with concern. I must look like a ghost. Moon has shifted into what appears to be curiosity.
"I do."
"Shall we proceed to their air space to see what's going on?"
Moon responds before I can form words. "We separated ourselves from the ARC mess for a reason. We don't need to do anything. Ignore it."
I snap to attention. An old part of me, starting at the bottom of my boots and growing, warming my chilled veins crawls up my body filling my skin. Part of me wants to crawl away and disappear, clutching the last words until I become them too.
"You remember that name," I nod at Moon. "ARC9 met with..."
We don't say her name on this ship anymore.
"I remember," he spits. "He betrayed you. Why do you care? Ignore it so we can move on with our lives already."
"Yeah," I say as I shrug. "You're right."
Moon settles back into the shadows, nursing his scotch.
I spin on my heel and leave.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Moon shouts from behind.
I fly down the halls, tracing the old steps I haven't walked in a long, long time. When I reach my personal hangar, I pause at the doorway. The tik tik tik of John's familiar gait echos in and out of focus. When he appears, Hux is riding his torso.
"Where are you going, Mommy?"
"To visit the past, kiddo."
Ledi opens the door for me. At first, it's hard to look at. It's been so long since I've visited the last remaining piece of ARC10. My shuttle.
It's as ugly as ever before. The smell emitting from it strikes me as soon as I enter the hangar—it's one I was so used to once upon a time. Hux holds his nose shut with two fingers.
In the corner, Ledi's blank canvas hardware is piled like a boneyard of discarded limbs.
"What's that?" Hux points to the ship.
"That's my shuttle. It was part of a big ship that held lots of people a long time ago."
"Was I on that ship?"
"Mhmm. When you were still in my belly, we spent a lot of time in there. This is just a small piece that broke off, and I fixed it. With Ledi's help, of course."
We walked around the entrance, the jagged metal frame completely familiar and welcoming after so long apart. We were friends once, and this homecoming is a long-anticipated reunion. I must be crazy, but I get the feeling that the shuttle is glad to see me.
The hatch lowers, and we enter. The inside is dusty, the remnants of my old life tossed around limply from disuse. It looks exactly how I left it during the whole incident with the Olympi—like it's some kind of museum dedicated to the life Janika Lorn used to lead. I step in and stoop to pick up the PAHLM I'd thrown in here when I decided to abandon the URE for good. Its shape is foreign in my hand now.
"What's that?" Hux asks, pointing to the PAHLM.
"It's a small computer to help keep tabs on people."
"Can I have one?"
I pretend to ponder it. But considering how many times I've lost him within the enormous expanse of the ship... "That may not be such a terrible idea."
Hux's curiosity explodes onto the scene. While I sit cross-legged on the floor, he grabs random artifacts to present to me so I can explain its significance in my life.
When he finds Dean's trunk, he pulls off my old brown jacket and wraps it around his small body. He rubs his cheek against the fleece as he pulls his right arm through the sleeve. Once on, he resumes his scan of the trunk. With nimble fingers, he plays with the latch and pops its lid.
His eyes go wide. "What are these?"
"Bring one over."
He grabs a familiar cover and rushes over to hand it to me with delicate care.
Brave New World. By Aldous Huxley.
I laugh. That's where I'd seen the name before. "You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?" I flip through the pages.
Something falls out.
It's the pressed flower. The orange blossom that fell out and landed on my lap the morning the marketplace disaster occurred before we left the URE. I pick it up and hold it between the pads of my thumb and forefinger.
"What's that?" Hux can't control his excitement. He swipes at it to try and touch the delicate flower. I hold his hand back before he can swipe again.
"Careful, kiddo. This is some rare Earth stuff. It's a flower. An orange blossom."
"Orange blossom."
I nod. "Yeah. A friend gave it to me. We used to sit under trees that grew thousands of these small flowers."
My memories drift.
Dean.
Warm evenings under the mirrors reflecting sunlight into the orchard.
Citrus trees flourishing in the hydroponics farm—his fingers plucking the brightest flower from the tallest branch.
The scent of Dean and grass and dirt that was so much part of the Earth I wanted to remember.
I press the flower under my nose to test if any of it remains—if my brain would pick up the notes and flash me back to that time and place where things were actually simple.
No scent. Even with my super-heightened smell, nothing.
But something hard brushes against my lip.
Scrutinizing the flower, I notice a little plastic square I hadn't caught before. Pressed into the stem of the flower is a tiny memory chip.
Holy shit.
It's easy enough to pry the little black piece of plastic from the pressed flower, but once it's between my fingers, I'm at a loss for what to do with it.
"What's that, Mommy?"
I search the ground for something—anything to put it into. I think about calling for Ledi, but I don't know what help he could be here.
Then I see it. At Hux's feet—my PAHLM.
That's what this is. A PAHLM chip.
"Hand me that device. Let me show you how it works."
When he holds it out to me, I flip the black machine over, remove my chip, and insert my discovery. I remember my last moments with the PAHLM—how I had rammed the golden rod through the front and possibly destroyed it for good.
I don't have much hope that it will work, but this the only mechanism on the HMS Valediction that can play this message. It better work.
The PAHLM blinks on.
And dies.
I try again.
Warmth floods my hand. It's recognizable and unwelcome. Too recognizable. The blue pixels flood my skin, raising their blurred graphics above my arm and fingers. The words are almost too blurry to read.
08 DECEMBER 2085
0149 HOURS
GOOD MORNING, DEAN FREYER
It's the morning before he gave me the book—the morning we had hatch duty together and made promises we couldn't keep and said stupid things that he never meant. It was the day I made a fool of myself and believed his sappy lies because I was so desperate to believe we were special.
Half of me wants to rip the thing off and chuck it into the stars, hoping it burns up in some distant atmosphere.
The other half is desperate for an answer. Any answer to the hundreds of questions that have haunted me.
There has to be something here that he wanted me to see. Why else would Dean have attached this to the flower in the book he specifically told me to read?
I don't have far to look. There's only one file.
NIKA
The name feels foreign. No one here would dare to call me that. Not after I disassembled Ledi because of the agony he caused me.
I tap the file in the palm of my hand.
Dean's hazy image appears. I can barely make out his features through the cracked pixels, but the second he speaks, I know it's him.
"Nika," he says softly as if whispering my name in one of the millions of hours we spent in each other's arms. He chuckles. "I hope you find this. I debated putting it in a book for the longest time because I'm fairly confident you'd burn the whole trunk without a second thought."
Hux taps at the hologram on my arm. "Who's that, Mommy?"
"That's an old friend." I press my finger against my lips to quiet him. "Let's listen."
"I'm not sure what happened to me, or to us, but I can't live knowing that you're playing into their games anymore."
My breath hitches.
"I hope you've figured it out by now. The President's schemes are deeply embedded in all facets of Operation Homecoming. I didn't know exactly how deep until that last night you and I were brought to the HHP for our third and final conception attempt. Remember that? They separated us—you went with the lead medic to a different wing in the clinic, and I was taken to another room."
His image fizzes. For a second, his face is crystal clear. He stares into my eyes, the blue pixels forming the perfect shape of his chin, his cheeks, his hair. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from attempting to sweep one long strand of it out from his eyes. He distorts again.
"Hayomo was already there waiting for me."
I try to keep my hand steady, but his image wobbles as I tremble.
"Everything she shared was classified top-secret—no one would ever know these details except the two of us in that room. I wish I could share everything. But Nika, whatever happens, you have to know that I'm following along because they threatened me, and they threatened you."
Hux loses interest and returns to digging through the trunk. I focus on the image, pulling my knees up and resting my hand on top of them to limit the force of my quivering hands.
Dean drops his gaze. Shaking his head, he continues. "Your role is critical to the operation. They need your ignorance and my compliance—without both, Hayomo's convinced we're all doomed to extinction."
I snort. That's rich.
He chuckles. "When out of the spotlight, she has a bit of flair for the dramatics, but I'm sure you've figured that out since you're on the same ship. For now."
So the trade was planned all along. There was no emergency on ARC9 the first time. How do I know this new mayday is real?
He gazes up at me again. "I'm not proud of what I'm going to do... or what I've done. I was in that room at the HHP to contribute semen just as you were taken to retrieve your eggs. They needed me to... produce a sample. But how could I do that after hearing the fate of the population is in the hands of a lie I'd have to make you believe?"
Thinking back on that moment when I woke in the lab and Dean was waiting for me to regain consciousness. His head was down, his hands were twisting together as if he was squeezing the truth between them. I knew something was wrong. I didn't know how bad it was.
"I didn't want to do it. They had a screen with images of you, Nika. They've been following you, capturing recordings of you in private moments of your life, like when you're in the shower or when you were in bed alone..."
I can't see the embarrassment in his cheeks, but I can hear it in his voice.
"They had it all recorded. They made me watch it. They had recordings of us together. It was disgusting. I hate myself for it, but I gave them what they needed."
My stomach twists with revulsion. Not toward Dean, but at the sick things the HHP was willing to do to accomplish their goals.
"They had that footage because they need you. Everything Hayomo has put you through is a test. The final part is coming, and I'm part of it."
I gulp. He better not say what I think he's going to say.
"Whatever I do... no matter how bad it seems, it's all part of this insane scheme Hayomo cooked up years ago. It's not me. It's not what I want. If I don't do it, they'll hurt you. They'll hurt Simon. You need to do what they say, Nika. No matter how fucked up all of this is, we'll be reunited at the end. They promised me that."
It feels like I'm falling from the sky without a way to soften my landing. I can't breathe.
"I love you. I don't care if you won't say it to me. I love you and know that we'll be together at NOHA. Keep fighting. Give them hell. Wait for me to find you and explain it all."
My hand is shaking too violently to make out his face anymore.
He whispers the last words and blinks away. "I love you, Nika."
With the palm of my un-tethered hand, I smash away the tears streaming down my cheek. "Ledi!"
"Yes, Lorn?" his crisp ship-standard voice echoes through the hangar.
"Get me the coordinates from where this morning's mayday came from."
"They are downloaded into your carrier's navigation system." The panels of my cockpit ignite, the buttons blinking on like stars switched on in the black sky.
I rush to my seat in the cockpit and pull at the straps to buckle in.
The coordinates flash on my terminal. It's far. No wonder the line cut. They're just out of reach of the Valediction's comm system. I can make it. I have enough fuel and supplies if I—
"Mommy?"
Startled, I twist around in my seat. Hux stares at me, wide-eyed and fearful. My brown jacket drapes over his shoulders, his little body lost in all the leather and fleece. He's on the brink of tears.
"Hux. Oh no. I'm sorry." I shove the buckles off my body and throw myself around him, hugging him to me. My old tendencies to throw myself into action haven't died yet. They hibernate, waiting for opportunities like this one.
"Where are you going? Today is my day."
"You're right. You're right, baby." I smooth down his hair and hold him out enough to give him my hardest stare. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."
I just got home. I can't leave him again—not for this again. There's no way I'll endanger him for the URE.
But Dean needs me.
Every nerve in my body is alive with anger I haven't felt since that day on the Olympi. They've ruined my life with their lies—how many more ways can they dash my dreams?
But I can't let them near Hux. I can't let him get tangled in that world.
"I just found out that my friends are in trouble."
His face contorts with concern. "Oh no."
"Yeah, kiddo. It's bad."
"Don't tell me. They got to you?" Moon steps up the ramp and stands in my cargo hold with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're dumber than I gave you credit for. Have you considered that this could be another ploy to pull you back in? "
I sweep Hux up in my arms and brush past Moon. "It's nothing, so don't make a big deal about it."
Hux drapes his arm around my neck as I escape the shuttle, running from the past that perpetually rises from the grave to haunt me. When I return to my cabin, I drop to my bed, Hux still clasped in my arms. Dean's words loop around and around until their echo reverberates into the room, shaking the hull.
Then Moon's words join them for a clashing chorus.
I close my eyes.
Breathe.
I hold my son tighter to my chest.
He rests his cheek against my heart.
This is my home now.