“Acceleration in progress. Maximum velocity to be obtained.”
For almost ten minutes, I stand stock-still, trying to process everything that’s happened. I can’t believe I’m here. In those long, awful hours in the stores, I gave up all hope of getting away from J. My universe shrunk to him and finding a way to escape. Now my universe has expanded again, I don’t know what to do with it.
I lick my lips. They are dry and cracked after so long in the stores. I’m warming up, sweating a little. I hadn’t even noticed I was cold. But it’s hotter on this ship, just slightly. J must have reduced the temperature of The Infinity in his effort to force me out of the stores – or to make it easier to track me down with the heat sensor. The gravity is normal here too – not weighing me down when I move.
I shiver, despite the temperature. There’s blood on my legs and knuckles. When I touch the tips of my fingers to the wounds, my knees give out beneath me. I need to sit down.
“Computer, where is the helm?”
The voice in the ceiling doesn’t speak, but a green line lights up on the floor.
“Thank you!”
I’m quietly amazed. This ship is so cool. It makes mine look like it’s made out of papier maché.
I follow the line around the corner, down another long corridor, and then down another short corridor off that. The ship is huge – at least three times the size of The Infinity, based on what I can see so far. There are corridors upon corridors, leading off in every direction. It’s so big that I can’t believe it’s real. It hurts my brain just thinking about it.
Finally, I reach a chrome door that slides open as I approach.
Inside is J’s kingdom. The open-plan room is so clearly his that it makes me nervous. On one side is a bank of computer screens – that must be the helm. There’s also a wide bed against the wall, with sheets tangled up at the foot and pillows punched into balls. The sight of it is the last thing my exhausted brain can process before it gives up completely.
Now that I’m safe, I’m so tired and relieved that I don’t even look around. I pass out on J’s bed, dropping abruptly into complete unconsciousness.
HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:
38
When I wake up, every muscle in my body aches and I’m desperately thirsty.
I find three half-empty bottles of water and two packets of mac and cheese in a cupboard by the bed. I drink the contents of all three bottles, then eat both packets, crunching through the pasta. I’m starving, but I’m not quite ready to venture out of this room to try and find a proper kitchen.
I’m still wearing my nightie, so I search for clothes. There don’t seem to be any in this room, apart from a hoodie that has NASA written on the front in large, stylized letters. I roll up the sleeves of the hoodie and pull it on. It smells like person. I’d forgotten that other people have a smell.
Looking around makes me feel like I’m seeing inside J’s brain. Dinner packets are strewn on every surface, and there’s a tablet on the bed. I open it to find a paused video.
I recognize it as an episode of a TV show he used to talk about. Just like when I found out his password was his mother’s name, it catches me by surprise. I hadn’t expected any of the things he told me to actually be true. Wasn’t he pretending to be Jayden? But this wasn’t a lie: he really does watch the show.
Carefully, I click through each tab, seeing what books and essays he’s been reading, and what music he last listened to.
It’s … unnerving. He seems quite normal. He listened to pop music yesterday.
Can I really do this? Can I leave him behind? If he stays on The Infinity, he’ll be in his sixties before he makes it to Earth II, if he ever makes it at all.
Have I condemned J to death?
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I can leave him imprisoned on The Infinity like this.
My thoughts are interrupted by a soft, automated voice coming from the tablet. “There is an incoming call from Jeremy Shoreditch. Would you like to accept?”
The notification pushes me over the edge.
“Answer it,” I say quickly. I need to speak to J. I need to try to understand what’s going on.
The video call connects and his face appears.
“Romy,” he says.
I can’t speak. I just nod, examining his features. I can’t tell from his expression whether he’s angry or upset. There’s a livid red mark on his cheek where my mother’s skin had sealed itself to his.
It might just be because I’m safe here on this ship, which is already hundreds of kilometres away from him, but somehow I’m not so terrified any more. I almost feel sorry for him. Right now, he looks harmless. Exhausted. Not monstrous at all.
When I open my mouth to finally speak, my lips part with an audible sound. “Are you all right?” I ask quietly.
He rubs at the mark on his cheek and sighs. “I’m OK. Romy, I’m sorry I scared you. I should have been more open with you about how soon the ship would be arriving. You’re so young, and I … I just wasn’t thinking coherently.”
I bite my lip, fighting back tears. Maybe I should have stopped to talk to him through the airlock, rather than detaching the ships.
“Because of your parents?” I venture carefully. I have barely been able to go anywhere near the sick bay because my mother was in there. If I were him, there’s no way I would have been able to deal with boarding the ship my parents died on. Not without some sort of horrifying and embarrassing breakdown.
He nods, then frowns. “I knew it would be hard, coming to the place where they died. But it was so much worse than I thought it would be. The minute I stepped on board, it brought everything back – all the memories of finding out that they’d died, when I felt completely alone in the universe. I got really upset and lashed out at you. I can’t tell you how much I regret it.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know they were part of the crew. I would never have talked about my nightmares in my emails if I’d known that two of the astronauts were your parents.”
“I should have told you the truth a long time ago,” J says. “But it was just too painful.”
“I understand. I can’t talk about my … about my dad either.”
We’re both silent.
“How old were you when they died?” I ask. If his parents had him before they left Earth nineteen years ago, then he must have been pretty young.
“Twenty-five. They got accepted for The Infinity mission when I was thirteen, which was due to launch after I turned eighteen. At first they weren’t sure if they should go, because of me. But NASA told them that I’d be able to follow them in a few years and we’d be together again.”
“So when you found out what had happened, you were already trying to become an astronaut too?”
He nods. “I’d just graduated and I was in training at NASA when they told me that Mom and Dad were dead. Just like that. I couldn’t believe it. We’d been preparing for so long, and then they were gone before their mission had even really started.”
“I’m so sorry, J.”