WORLD 4: AWAKENING

Stars looked so innocent and unassuming from far away.

Outside the windows of my Colony, countless pinpoints of light glinted brightly, almost dancing as we passed by so far from them. Most thought they were beautiful, but not me. I knew what seemingly tiny things could really be like up close. A star, a planet, a burning mass of fire…nobody ever knows what kind of evil they’re dealing with when it comes to those twinkling lights until they’re too close to run from it.

My bedroom on Colony Four was tiny. It was one of the lowly officer quarters on board, stuffed down in the corner of the ship where nobody had to see us. I didn’t have to be there; in fact, I’d had to beg my way into it. It was something I took crap for all the time. It didn’t really make sense that a person who could be in a huge, luxurious Commander’s suite actually chose to leave and join the big fat gang of nobodies down in the officer rooms.

But my father understood, or at least he pretended like he did. He was a good man, a good parent, a great Commander. He was sympathetic enough to let his seventeen-year-old daughter live on her own. Although I’m sure he had people watching me constantly.

Figures. He’d never leave me truly on my own.

My life had become fairly routine, like all the other officers onboard. We didn’t have much besides routine, really. I was scheduled to be on the first shift in Medical Level bright and early.

I pressed two fingers to the smooth, gray pad on the wall next to my bathroom door. It lit up bright white with recognition, then slid the door open with a hiss. The bathroom tucked into the wall was as abnormally tiny as the bedroom. I guess when you’re in such a rush to build a ship, it’s hard to make enough room for three thousand people. More room on board means more time spent building it, and that wasn’t something we’d had the luxury of.

It was washing day. Cleaning yourself had become a rarity on board. It wasn’t like that initially, but after our first three attempts at finding a home failed, the rationing became ten times as strict. President Banner forced the limited twice-a-week showering and wouldn’t let up, despite everyone’s complaints. Her approval rating never recovered after that one. I guess dirty people equal unhappy people, at least on the Colonies.

I stumbled the two steps to the bathroom sink. I could just barely see myself in the cloudy, grime-laden glass on the wall.

“Ugh,” I mumbled as I ran a hand over my tangled hair.

It had grown quite a bit in the eight years on board and changed color to more of a darker, dull blonde. Age and the lack of natural sunlight will do that to you. I couldn’t help it; a scowl spread across my face as I stared at my reflection, almost screaming silently at my hair in disgust.

I hated that its brightness was fading. Light blonde hair had always been something I was proud of. It reminded me of my mother, Annia, who had shared the same color. Her hair was as light as the brightest sunlight and matched her happy personality — two things I’d once inherited that were gone.

I undressed and hesitantly pressed my fingers to the dirty touch pad next to the mirror. The outer edges lit up faintly at first, then bright white as it approved the washing. The side wall slid open revealing a narrow, tall cubicle with small holes dotting the interior. I took a long, calming breath and stepped in.

My eyes clamped themselves shut the second the door began to close itself. It was the same routine every time. I’d keep them sealed together as hard as possible, trying to force my mind somewhere else, anywhere else but that tight shower. The computerized program wouldn’t let me out until the wash was over, so I had no choice but to get through it, whether I was calm or screaming. Small spaces were not things I was okay with, especially ones involving water.

Jets of soapy liquid sprayed out from every direction in a pressurized stream. I jumped with a shriek as the cold water made contact. My hands scrubbed at my face and body furiously, probably more than was needed, but I had to keep myself busy if I wanted to stay calm. Instinct made me desperate to get out, to claw myself free from my watery coffin and go anywhere else — my bedroom, the prisons, exploding in space. Any of them would do.

You’d think after that many years it wouldn’t bother me anymore, but I’d only been in the regular officer room for five months and still wasn’t used to it. Commanders’ rooms had showers five times as large as mine. Thankfully, I’d trained myself to get through the two minutes without having a panic attack as long as I never opened my eyes even once.

The drying fans came on. Powerful streams of air blasted from the walls, forcing as much water off of me as possible so as not to waste it. Drying off with a large towel just soaked up water, which wasn’t an efficient use of resources, or so President Banner said.

Efficient. Balanced. I couldn’t stand hearing it anymore.

The only reason so much effort was put into efficiently calculating our lives was to make up for how utterly inefficient the whole planet-finding thing was going. I knew that without having to ask.

I got the courage to open my eyes as I heard the door sliding free. The one, small towel we were allotted hung on a tiny hook by the door. I grabbed it and wiped the remnants of water from my body. A hole in the wall blasted more air at me to dry my hair as a final step. At least that air was warm — cold was deemed to be too inefficient.

Clothing most days was the same: a light blue, fitted short-sleeved work uniform top and Colony charcoal-gray pants. All Levels were designated by different colors. Medical Level — or Med Lev, for short — was assigned the shirt color of light blue. We were healers of the Colony, the caring ones. The dark blue Science Lev Officers were the geniuses, while Command Lev white shirts were the cocky ones. Those people always thought they were superior; it was no wonder I didn’t have any friends from there. With so many Levels, after a while people stopped referring to others by their jobs and just used shirt color instead.

After slipping on my short gray boots, I put my hair into its usual low ponytail, pressed my fingers onto the pad by the main door, and stepped out as its edges glowed white.

Right away I heard a voice. “Mayla!”

My neighbor, Athan, was just stepping out of his room. He was a red shirt, working in Protection Level, and was probably the happiest person I knew on board. I was always glad to see him; his friendliness reminded me of my mom.

“Hey, Athan, off to work?”

“Yep, heading to eat first, though,” he said and brightened even more. “How about you?”

“No, I’m going straight to Med Lev. We’ve got to do inventory today so we’ll be busy.”

His face fell a little bit; it was clear he wanted company. “Oh, alright. Are you guys doing routine inventory checks or something?”

I turned and led us both down the gray carpeted hallway. “No, it’s to make sure that we have everything we need when we’re down setting up the on-planet shelters…well, I guess if we set them up.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” he said and became even more excited than normal. “Big day tomorrow, huh? Planet day and everything. Hey, that’s what I’m calling it from now on — planet day!” He burst out into hilarious, loud laughter.

I fought to suppress my amusement. It happened almost every time I talked to Athan — but not because he constantly thought he was funny; it was because his teeth were so abnormally white. They stood out in stark contrast to his short black hair. I’d never encountered such bright white teeth in my entire life and it was hard not to stare sometimes. I laughed almost as loudly as he was.

We stopped at the corridor transport. I pressed my fingers to the gray pad on the wall and it began to glow with a pulsing white, waiting for a transport to arrive.

Athan eventually calmed down. He gave a happy sigh, then started down the hallway even further. “Alright, I’ll see you later, Mayla!”

“Bye,” I called after him with a final giggle.

The transport’s dark blue doors slid open for me to enter. It quickly took off four floors higher, then sideways for far longer. The Colonies were built to be very wide rather than tall. Someone in Science Lev once told me that its shape helped us travel faster, but who knew for sure if that was true.

Different Levels were spread all throughout the ship. Medical Level was a floor below Command, both about the same size. Tech and Science Lev both took up the largest amount of space, having the most officers out of any other area on board.

At the end of a long, gray hallway was a set of double doors. “Medical Level” was stamped onto the wall next to them in white paint, faded and halfway chipped off after so long. I pressed my fingers to the wall pad and the doors parted, sliding open to welcome me in. Right away I was greeted by Ceres, one of our officers who’d just started in Med Lev six weeks earlier. He was sixteen, and probably as energetic as Athan. Almost.

“Hey, Mayla!” he chirped. His light brown hair bounced around his forehead as he skipped over to me. “Late as usual?”

“What?” I said and slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m not late!”

He chuckled and smacked my shoulder back. His hazel eyes were sparkling with mischief. “I’m giving you a hard time, lighten up. It’s just kind of exciting, right? Everything that’s happening in the next few days.”

I forced a smile, having no desire to talk about the upcoming days. “Totally, it’s really great. Anyway, have you started anything?”

“No, I just got here a minute before you did.”

I made my way through Medical Level with Ceres trailing behind. Floors were hard and charcoal-gray, with a long row of storage cabinets along one wall and an office stuck in the far corner. An elongated, horizontal window spread along the entire Level’s back wall. Innumerable stars twinkled away in the distance like a childish kind of light show. It was something I tried not to look at whenever I was there.

Three rows of exam beds were each covered in extremely worn light blue sheets and could be sectioned off with an opaque holographic privacy curtain. There were hand-held personal screens spread throughout the room for Med Lev Officers to use. They were white, thin, and extremely light.

I’d started training there a few months before I turned sixteen. In only another year and a half, I would qualify to be an actual doctor and could work on my own, which sounded amazing. For some reason, healing people, taking care of them and solving their medical mysteries was incredibly satisfying. Maybe it was because my mind stayed focused and occupied while I was there, but whatever it was, I felt at peace doing anything related to medicine.

After signing in to the officer system, I pulled a personal screen from the wall to check out the day’s schedule.

“Oh no, it looks like Ebie’s daughter Taegan is sick,” I said while scanning the patient list. I studied its contents as we walked to the sleek white supply cabinets along the side of the room.

“Who’s Ebie?”

I gave him a weird look. Everyone knew who Ebie was. “Are you serious?”

“What?” he said with a child-like smirk. “Like I have time to remember everyone on board this stupid Colony, Mayla! I’ve got better things to do.”

My cheeks tensed as I tried to control myself. “Like your awesome music?”

He gave me a shove and pointed his finger. “Don’t even start! My music is amazing. Everyone will see that eventually.”

Ceres had a group he sang in, and they were awful. He’d attempted to get the entertainment supervisors on board to let them sing at different events, but hadn’t had any luck. It didn’t matter, though — music was his life, even if he wasn’t any good at it.

My throat felt thick and swollen; it was all I could do to hold in a laugh. “Ebie is the Senior Science Officer of Colony Four.”

“Oh! Got it, I’ll totally remember that one.” He rolled his eyes and turned to slide open the supply cabinets.

Ceres quirky spirit was too amusing to be annoyed with. I typed in a command on the personal screen and the inventory list came up. Every piece of equipment, every medication, anything at all we would need for the on-planet shelters were categorized for us to double-check.

“Alright, so really we just need to go through this list and make sure we have everything,” I said. I held the screen to the face of the cabinet and pushed its bottom corner; right away, it became magnetized and stayed put. We began our job in silence.

“Wait, so what’s wrong with her?” Ceres asked.

“Who?”

“The daughter, Teglyn.”

“What? Oh! You mean Taegan.” I verbally drew out the name to correct him. He shrugged. “I don’t know, she only put ‘stomach upset’ as her symptoms. I guess we’ll see.”

My cheeks twitched discreetly with a smile. I couldn’t help it, but a surge of excitement pulsed through me just imagining what could possibly be wrong with her. Sometimes I felt guilty, being so eager to see a sick or injured person, but my father always reassured me that we needed people like that in Med Lev. I hoped he was right and that I wasn’t just a psychopath who got excited at other people’s pain.

The double doors were so large that there was no mistaking their hiss while opening. I automatically looked up to see who it was and smiled as I saw Dr. Kai. Most people just called him Kai, and left the official part of it out altogether. He was much older — in his eighties — which was a rarity to see. The government had banned anyone over the age of fifty-five from coming on board when the nightmare began all those years ago. Wasting resources on a grandparent wasn’t efficient, supposedly.

But they made an exception for him. He’d accomplished more in medical technology than anyone else in our part of the world, specifically in one subject. His paper, “The Mechanics of Drug Fabrication”, had won several awards and led to the invention of the Drug Fabrication Machine. Medical professionals could type in the chemical composition of any kind of medication or organic tissue, and in a few minutes’ time, it would be produced right inside of the box-shaped device. Kai had been given the highest award possible for medical achievement and had been two weeks away from the ceremony when we evacuated the planet.

“Hey, you two!” he called out, slowly walking to his office in the corner. His white hair ruffled and he smiled his wrinkly grin. “Thanks for doing inventory, holler if you need me!”

“I just love listening to him talk, don’t you?” said Ceres, staring at Kai, zoned out and starstruck.

“Go ask him for his autograph, groupie,” I teased. He threw a pack of bandages at my head.

I tossed it right back at him. But even though I’d joked about his comment, Ceres was absolutely right — Kai had an accent that I couldn’t quite pinpoint, but always loved to hear.

“I hate having to wear this uniform every day, why do they make us wear it but not him?” whined Ceres. We’d never seen Kai wear the light blue Med Lev uniform top even once since either of us had started there. Usually he had on an old sweater of some kind.

“Because he’s accomplished and smart and we’re lowly trainees, remember?” I reminded him quietly. “But seriously, I don’t even have that much in the way of recreation clothes. My dad only brought a handful of things with us when we left home, and obviously none of that fits anymore.”

Ceres shrugged up his lanky shoulders. “Well I have a lot, and my stuff is way better than Colony uniforms. When I’m Senior Medical Officer, I’ll change the rules and make sure everyone can see my amazing wardrobe every single day.”

“You’re hilarious. When you’ve been on board long enough to get that position, I won’t be here to see your wardrobe because I’ll be dead. That long of a time on this ship will definitely kill me.”

He began checking off sections on the inventory screen. “You’re way too dramatic. It’s not like we’re being tortured here.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t remember life before this stupid place,” I half-mumbled, crouching down to start working on the bottom shelf.

“I kind of do. I mean, just some things. But you weren’t very old either, so it’s not like you remember that much.”

“Ha! I remember enough, Ceres. Let me guess, you were probably in your room with your family as we left, not watching what happened, right?”

“Yeah, we were unpacking and stuff. Even if we’d wanted to watch, they wouldn’t let anyone out of their rooms. At least not until we were out of range.”

“Well, I saw everything,” I said, then spoke more softly with a pause. “You don’t forget something like that.”

He eyed me carefully, then got back to work. “You’ve got some issues, May.”

“Shut up!” I said and laughed. He shot me a devilish grin.

Although he may have called me dramatic, my statement was truth. I’d never forget what I saw that night so long ago. You can’t un-see images of the world being destroyed. Can’t forget the enormous fire and debris wave that decimated billions of people. An ocean wave hundreds of feet high, drowning millions more. Any survivors were left to suffocate on the aftermath of poisonous gasses. And I’d just stood back watching from above, safe, plucked from my bed by my father who’d dragged me on board. I had no idea what was even going on until I saw it happening with my own eyes. Even if he did it to protect me, the lies that my father and government kept from the world had haunted me for eight years, almost like I’d been a part of them.

Everyone called it A-Day. It was horrible and Ceres was right, I did have issues because of it. Officers in Command Lev called out a play-by-play of what was happening down on the surface while we looked on like it was nothing. Every friend I’d had, every teacher, neighbor, store clerk…I watched them burn. And I was lucky enough to survive, simply because of who my father was. The great Commander Archauus’ daughter got to live while everyone else had to die. It had disturbed me beyond the point of repair.

“Hey, so why don’t you talk about it that much?” asked Ceres. He leaned against one of the tall white cabinets and folded his arms.

“Talk about what?”

“About that night, dummy. If you were there and saw it and everything. I mean, it seems like people might want to know details. I know I do.”

“Believe me, you don’t.”

“Maybe let me decide that.”

I glanced over at him sideways. “Shouldn’t you be helping me?”

He looked at me like the answer should have been obvious. “I’m taking a break.”

“No breaks for you, slacker.” I grinned and pulled him down to me by the shirt. “Get to work.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s make a deal. If everything works out with this planet and you have no reason to be all weird about things anymore, then I get to know details. Good ones, too.”

“Fine, have it your way,” I said just to shut him up. “Now let’s get this done.”

I was lying when I said I’d be willing to tell him details. They were things I didn’t like thinking about. Maybe someday I would get over my survivor’s guilt, but that depended solely on one thing: getting out of Colony Four. The planet we would be coming to the next day was supposed to be a good one, or so we’d been told, but who knew for sure. The three planets before it were supposed to have been great also.

The only thing I knew for certain was that if things didn’t work out, I probably wouldn’t survive it. Eight years in space, a lifetime to go…there was no way I could live out the rest of my days on the Colony. I realized it sounded drastic, but I couldn’t help it. After everything I’d been through, a small part of me wished that I’d just been left behind to die also; a victim of the asteroids, forgotten like everyone else.