Glow (20 page)

“You’re being kept where you can’t do further damage.”

“But how do you
know
I did damage? How does anyone know?”

“Seth saw the whole thing.”

“So it’s his word against mine? Is that how we’re going to do things from now on? Seth can throw anyone in the brig he wants?”

Again, Sealy was silent.

Kieran’s blood pulsed fear through his system until he forced himself into a cool, detached space where he could think.

As long as he was in the brig, he was at Seth’s mercy, and there was no way to get out unless someone let him out. His only hope would be to gain access to someone outside of Seth’s inner circle. He had to talk to Arthur Dietrich. Or Sarek, who had witnessed the entire shuttle flight over the console. Sarek could contradict Seth’s story. “If Seth is a real leader, he shouldn’t be afraid of a fair trial.”

“If you’re trying to talk your way out of here, it’s not going to work.”

“I’m not
just
trying to talk my way out of here. I’m trying to save the ship. Do you really think Seth is the guy to lead us? Really?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Oh, right. I’m sure he never bullies
you
.”

Again, Sealy was silent.

It was best to stop here. Let Sealy do some thinking on his own. Kieran had little hope that he could turn the boy’s loyalties, but even if he could make him doubt what Seth was doing, it might help. Besides, all this talking and thinking had exhausted him, and he had to close his eyes and try to sleep off the medication. Once the drug had worn off, he could think more about what to do.

He was still so frightened, it took a while, but finally he was able to sleep. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he woke up again and saw a pair of boots in front of his face.

He bolted up, afraid of being kicked. He tried to stand but lost his balance and had to catch himself on the metal cot.

Seth stood over him, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well.”

“You must be proud of yourself.” Kieran raised himself up to sit on the cot. He considered tackling Seth and beating the boy unconscious, but he was so weak, it would be useless to try. Besides, on the other side of the steel bars were two boys, and they were holding guns like the ones the New Horizon crew had used. So they’d gone down to the cargo holds and found them. “What do you want, Seth?”

“I have everything I want. You’re out of the way, and the ship will finally be run the way it should be.”

“Is that why you needed the guns?” God, how many did they have?

“Guns make it easier,” Seth said.

Dread oozed through Kieran’s chest like hot sludge. Seth had gone insane.

“What are you planning on doing with me?” Kieran said, trying to hide his fear.

Seth sat on the cot next to Kieran, hands on his knees. Now that he was finally in charge, he wasn’t sullen so much as arrogant. He moved with a kind of easy swagger, and humor even played at his eyes. Everything about him seemed disconnected, ill matched to the situation. “I haven’t decided,” Seth said.

“You think everyone will go along with whatever you decide?”

“Who cares what everyone goes along with?”

“You should. They outnumber you,” Kieran said.

He thought he saw a brief flicker of doubt in Seth’s eyes, but it passed quickly. “You’re the one who should be worried right now.”

“Why? You’re my only enemy. How many enemies have
you
made, you bully?”

Seth’s fist flashed at Kieran’s eye, exploding into pain through his head and down into his neck and shoulder. He fell backward off the cot and rolled on the floor, unable to pretend that it didn’t hurt.

“Don’t call me that!” Seth screamed. All the pain of losing his father coursed through Seth’s voice, and he seemed about to buckle under. But he bit his lip fiercely, reined in his emotions, and said, “I don’t want to hit you again, but I will if you keep calling me names.”

After the pain dulled to a reddish haze behind his eyes, Kieran pulled himself onto his feet. He had to lean on the metal wall behind him. The steel was cold on his back, and it revived him. He realized he needed food. He needed water. He needed so many things.

“You know what happened aboard the shuttle, Seth. You were there. You saw the whole thing. I piloted us back to the Empyrean.”

“If I hadn’t taken the controls, we’d have lost atmospheric control,” Seth said. He was playing to an audience of two: Sealy Arndt, who was scowling at the floor, his expression unreadable, and Max Brent, who was watching Seth with rapt attention, his eyes aglow. “I know what I did.”

“Yeah. You held the joystick for ten seconds. You pressed a button to close the cargo hold. That’s what you did.”

“We’re still trying to fix the damage you did to the atmospheric system when you crashed the shuttle.”

“I barely grazed the surface. What did you really lose? An antenna? Does it even need to be repaired?”

“You disabled the control system.”

“If your father were here, he’d say you’re a liar.”

Seth froze in shock, and for a moment Kieran thought he might cry. The boy squeezed his fist closed, and, moving so quickly that Kieran didn’t see him coming, he punched Kieran in the stomach. Kieran went blind for a second, and when his vision cleared, he was on his knees again. He struggled to breathe, but his diaphragm was in spasm. He gulped air desperately as the pain in his stomach doubled the pain in his head. He was hurt. He was so hurt.

He really might not get out of this.

He looked up at Seth standing over him. Kieran thought he saw a flicker of self-doubt pass over Seth’s eyes as he kneaded his fist.

“Why are you doing this?” Kieran asked Seth, gasping.

“I won’t let one of Captain Jones’ thugs have this ship.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how things need to change.”

“I think you’ve gone insane.”

“Do you have any other ridiculous accusations to make?” Seth said, his voice low. “Or are you ready to listen to what I have to say?”

Kieran merely looked at Seth, waiting for him to speak.

“You’ve been asleep for thirty hours, so you’re probably hungry, right?” Seth asked knowingly.

Kieran held his sore stomach, waiting.

“We’ll bring you something to eat, but first I want you to admit to your mistakes in front of everyone. That’s all you have to do.”

Kieran needed food. He felt weak, and despite the pain in his gut from Seth’s punch, he felt hungry. But he would not let Seth make an example of him. If he did, the ship would be lost. Kieran could feel the other two boys waiting for a response. He had to think of something he could say that would undermine Seth.

It was hard to think like his enemy. What was the worst thing he could say to him right now?

“You must be afraid,” he said slowly. He lifted his eyes to Seth’s face and focused all his hatred into his gaze. “That’s why you’re hiding me away from all the other boys. You’re afraid I’ll turn them against you.”

Seth grabbed Kieran’s hair and rammed his head backward against the wall. “You think you’re smart.”

“Otherwise why are you asking for a public confession? If you weren’t afraid, you’d hold a real trial. If I’m the criminal you’re making me out to be, you should be able to prove it. But you can’t, so you’re afraid.”

“No, Kieran,” Seth said as he backed out of the cell and slid the door closed. His face was a blank mask, but his voice trembled with rage. “You’re the one who’s afraid.”

It was true, Kieran realized later that night, alone in the darkness, hungry and aching and missing Waverly. He was very afraid.

PART FOUR

SUBVERSIONS

All oppression creates a state of war.

—Simone de Beauvoir

CARGO

Waverly smiled, half-hidden behind the fruit bowl, leaning her chin on her hands. It was a ridiculous pose, and it felt wholly unnatural, but it’s what Amanda wanted.

“That’s lovely, honey. It’s going to be adorable,” Amanda said as she blocked out the composition on her canvas with a thick piece of charcoal. She was weak like the rest of the adults and could stand at her easel for only a few minutes at a time, so the process was slow. “You’re a natural!”

“Thanks,” Waverly said, trying not to move.

“So, Waverly…” Amanda’s voice was precise. “Tell me, do you want to be a mother someday?”

“I don’t know.” Waverly slid her eyes over to examine the woman, who was peering closely at her canvas. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I guess because I’m jealous.”

“Jealous? Why?”

For a long time Amanda didn’t answer; she just stroked the canvas with charcoal. “I wanted to be one of the first mothers of New Earth. I thought it was my destiny.”

Waverly said nothing.

“But you’ll get to. You’ll be a progenitor of thousands, maybe millions of colonists on New Earth. You’ll be celebrated and remembered by an entire planet full of people. Like Eve in the Garden of Eden. Well, you and the rest of the girls.”

“I never thought about it that way,” Waverly said. A chill passed over the backs of her shoulders.

“When you think about it, it’s almost your duty, if you know what I mean. To be a mother.”

Waverly watched Amanda as the woman drew, her hands nervous and quick as they marked the canvas.

“And to be safest, you should take advantage of your youth. Have children early, if you can. Women become less fertile as they age. You know that.”

“I’m not ready to be a mother,” Waverly said. A lump had formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard. What were these people
planning
?

“Oh, I don’t mean that you should be raising babies at your age. Heavens, no!” Amanda laughed.

Waverly found a way to smile, but she felt uneasy. The woman was talking around something, she felt sure, edging toward some goal.

“I’m so glad you came for this visit,” Amanda said with a vibrant smile.

“It’s no trouble,” Waverly told her.

In truth, this was a welcome change from the monotony of the dormitory. It had been five days since family time, and there had been no more word of moving the girls in with families. Instead they’d been left in the dormitory in utter boredom, spending day after day trying to amuse themselves, given only plain food, and hardly enough to satisfy their hunger. They were cranky and uncomfortable, and many fights had broken out. Waverly suspected that Mather was getting them ready to be separated. If the dormitory was a dull, frustrating place, the girls would be eager enough to get out.

A thousand times Waverly considered telling Samantha and Sarah about the woman who had left the note in the bathroom, but something stopped her. It was the kind of secret that might be impossible to contain, and her only chance to rescue the Empyrean survivors was to surprise Mather and her crew. They must not get any inkling that she knew there were Empyrean crew members aboard—at least, not until she was ready to rescue them and escape, and that would take time.

So when Amanda came looking for Waverly, asking her to come to her quarters to pose for a portrait, Waverly had jumped at the chance. She hoped to get away from the guards long enough to sneak to the cargo holds. Her mom might be there, and she had to know if she was okay.

She couldn’t think about that now, or she’d cry.

A photograph on the wall behind Amanda caught Waverly’s eye. It showed orange rolling hills under a swath of blue, and Waverly forced her mind toward it and away from her worry. “What is that?” she asked.

“What, that picture?” Amanda took it off the wall and set it on the table in front of Waverly. “That’s California.”

“California?”

“It’s a part of North America, where I came from. I thought you were from North America, too.”

“My family came from British Columbia.”

“The mountains or the coast?”

“Mountains.” Waverly picked up the photo, studied the soft red land undulating like waves. “Are these mountains?”

“Sand dunes.” Amanda chuckled at Waverly’s puzzled expression and sat in a wooden chair beside her. “Like in the fish hatchery? You’ve seen the sand that coats the bottom of the tanks?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s what makes up those dunes, only lots and lots of it. And just like the water moves the sand on the bottom of the tanks, the wind on Earth moves the sand dunes, and it makes those shapes.”

“So these are like waves of earth?”

“Yes. And if the wind is strong enough, when the sand strikes your face, it stings. And gets in your eyes.”

“What makes the wind?” People had tried to explain before, but Waverly always asked, because people always said different things.

“The sun, I think. When it rises at dawn, it warms up the air.”

Waverly tried to imagine standing on top of a sand dune with the wind in her face. It was so difficult, imagining air moving without any visible cause. She imagined standing somewhere you couldn’t see any walls or a ceiling—nothing but the sky above you. Nothing to hold you in and keep you safe. The thought scared her.

“I miss being outside.” Amanda leaned back in her chair, hands folded in her lap, dreamy eyes on the photo. “My father and I would take long walks along a seasonal stream that ran through an arroyo near our ranch. He’d hold my hand and show me the crawdaddies crawling along the shore, and I’d try to catch them until one pinched me.”

Waverly didn’t know what a crawdaddy was, but she had learned not to interrupt stories about Earth, or the adults might stop talking about it altogether.

“I wish I could describe how it feels to have the sun on your face. I’ve tried to duplicate it. I even stuck my head in the oven once until I realized what I was doing.” Amanda laughed, shaking her head. Waverly squirmed. “Nothing feels like that gentle buttery light on your skin. And as far as painting goes…” She scoffed at the fluorescent lights above. “I’ve tried a million ways, but I can’t capture the look of natural light in my work. I’m convinced that’s what my paintings are missing. No matter what I do, the colors seem dank.”