Prologue

As he sat in his seat staring out at the blur beyond the open mouth, the fierce winds shook the craft docked in the shelter of the cave. His chest fell slowly while a tear escaped and ran down his cheek. Straining, he worked to draw another breath from the now stale interior of his suit.

“This is the end of the line for me,” he whispered to the empty passenger seat in the cockpit while the elements howled in the background.

The emergency lighting glowed faintly in the background of the vehicle that would soon be his tomb. From behind his mask, he looked down at the now blank dashboard that was part of the larger system that had failed him. Betrayed by a lethal combination of mechanical issues and bad weather, he knew that these were certainly his last few breaths and any more words spoken were just hastening his end.

Rescue in the middle of this storm would be impossible. As death slowly closed in, he was sure that he had made the right decision not to send a distress call and instead remain silent and alone in the skiff. For the time being, they would be left to wonder, and even possibly worry, about his whereabouts.

He exhaled and felt his eyelids growing heavy as the view ahead narrowed to slits of fuzzy darkness.

The sound of the wind was now starting to fade into the background. Blinking his eyes, the vision of whipped sands was occasionally replaced by complete blackness.

Moments remained now until his chapter would be over. Colonists would soldier on here on this planet after he passed from the world— millions of miles away from the planet where he was born. And although there was sadness in drawing these last breaths, a faint smile formed on his lips as he thought about the trail of breadcrumbs that he had left behind. His efforts could still bear fruit. There could still be revolution.

His eyes closed for the last time and his final thoughts were of a transmitter that lay hidden in the compartment of an unsuspecting colonist.

Chapter One

“If one’s different, one’s bound to be lonely.”― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

Tip #4: Make sure you don’t become like the rest of them

It’s possible that the others are exactly the same people now that they were when they were first selected to come here. But I keep my guard up just in case it’s this place that changes people. Sometimes I wonder if it works kind of like evolution in reverse, which is kind of funny when you think about why we’re actually here in the first place. Whatever happened to the others one thing is really clear– I don’t want to become like them.

After finishing the last piece of equipment, I stood up to survey my work. The rows of bikes, steppers, and treads filling the exercise space sparkled, each machine reflecting the dim overhead lights. My stomach let out a loud growl, a reminder that it was time to wrap up for the day. I tucked the microfiber towel in my waistband and then stretched my hands to the ceiling. Turning to face the mirrored wall, I gazed at my reflection, seeking a little validation.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked.

My twin stared back at me, a wide grin on her face.

“Another perfectly executed task right?” I patted myself on the back.

The girl with the short hair tied up in a ponytail nodded approvingly.

“Here I am doing my part to save humanity and you’re the only one who got to see it,” I pointed a finger at my doppelganger and wagged it playfully. “Hope that you’re appreciating my hard work.”

My reflection shrugged her shoulders in return.

“Well, thanks for keeping my company for today. I really appreciate it.” I put my hands on my hips. “How about we plan to meet here again on Thursday? Same time?”

My twin nodded enthusiastically.

“Great— looking forward to it,” I grinned, giving an exaggerated wink.

Batting her eyelids in return, my reflection offered a slight curtsy.

“See you then and can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to!”

We exchanged a small wave as I headed for the door. Near the exit, I tossed the microfiber towel in the hamper next to the stationary bikes, raising my hands in triumph after making the shot. Of course, there was no applause from the empty room. Instead, the door swished open and I stepped into the connector full of glistening beams of sunlight. The passageway was lined with thick, tinted windows that provided maximum UV protection while still allowing the bright rays to fill the corridor. These twisting tubes snaked throughout our complex, linking the rectangular units housing all of the colonists living in Pangaea III.

“A perfectly sunny Mars day,” I tried to imitate K.A.T. ’s automated voice that greeted us each morning with her weather report. “Today, surface temperatures will reach a high of zero degrees Celsius with a 10% chance of evening storms.”

The soft soles of my thin boots made almost no noise when I continued down the corridor. The hiss of the door opening in the opposite direction broke the near silence as a tall woman with tightly cropped, blonde hair emerged. As she neared me, the pale geologist wearing dark glasses nodded stiffly and I returned the favor.

“Good afternoon Asha,” she offered without so much as a smile while keeping a brisk pace.

“Good to see you Vivian,” I politely replied and then gave a roll of my eyes after passing her.

Like most of the colonists, she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly and she of course wanted little to do with the only teen within fifty-five million miles of her.

“Any kid will do. Just please send another one…” I muttered to myself as I continued down the passage and stared out at the waves of dunes. Out there in the landing area in just under five weeks, the most exciting event in our lives would soon take place: the upcoming Arrival. I could only hope for someone under twenty to be on board. For the time being though, I was trapped as the only teenager living with the most boring group of adults in the universe. Somehow, the others living here had managed to become even more uptight over the last week since the disappearance of Francois.

A shiver passed through me as I kept walking. On the other side of the plexiglass, the beautiful, but unforgiving landscape stretched out in undulating, orange waves. There had been no official announcement that Francois had stolen a skiff and several cans of paint, but just like in middle school back home it was difficult to keep secrets in the tight quarters of the colony. Everyone knew that he had set out across the Martian desert even though his mutiny hadn’t officially been announced.

Staring out the giant, curved windows, I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened to him. It was a different existence here that my parents chose for me when we packed up to move to the middle of nowhere in this galaxy, leaving everything and everyone I had ever known behind for a two year tour on the red planet. I still wasn’t sure if being here was more dangerous than staying behind on Earth given some of the things that happened to people back home. And although there was danger in living here, on many days the worst thing about being here was being the only kid growing up surrounded by a bunch of adults that wanted nothing to do with me.

“On the bright side, I never have to dress to impress,” I muttered and couldn’t help but smile thinking about one of my favorite tips for living here that was listed among many others in my journal.

The corridor ended at the door to our cluster. I passed through the airlock into the small alcove outside our dorm. I placed my hand on the identification pad, and then passed through the door on the left after it retracted.

“Home, sweet home…” I offered to the empty, metallic unit that was about the size of the bedroom I used to have back in Ohio.

As the only family in Pangaea III, things were a little more cramped for us than the others. Our ten by twelve dorm room was identical to the other building blocks connected by the transparent tubes snaking through the complex. On the far end of the room, three gray platforms were organized in a column with a steel ladder at one end linking them together. I crawled up the rungs onto the top bunk and unlatched the panel built into the wall where most of my possessions were stored. The contents nearly burst out of the long, oval cubby when opened. I grabbed my journal and a pen amidst the odds and ends that had piled up in the cache. I then kissed my fingertips and gently placed the kiss on both my mom and my dad in the photo that was taped to the inside of the panel before shoving everything back into the storage space.

I closed the oblong panel with the silver knob. Spreading out on the thin, microfiber gray sheets over the foam mattress, I grabbed a black pen and opened up my journal to a page that had Tip #4 (which was a good reminder of the need to constantly be on the lookout to make sure that I never became like the others). I skipped ahead to a blank, white page. The black pen was not as great for shading as a pencil would be, but this was all I had for now. I needed to beg Liu later to sneak me another pencil from Pablo, who was meticulous and tyrannical in his administration of supplies as the Commander at Pangaea. Pablo confirmed that jerks were not just relegated to Earth in this galaxy.

Before I had a chance to start an entry for today, the whoosh of the door sounded. I looked over to see my mom enter and cross the small room.

“Hi mom,” I tucked my notebook into the cubby and then hopped down from the bunk.

She gave me a hug with her long, thin arms.

“How was today?”

The same as every other day….

“It was fine,” I answered as she pulled back.

“Ready for dinner?” She asked as she tied her long black mane up.

“Dad’s late again?” I asked.

Immediately, she frowned and I felt a little guilty for asking.

“You know that Pablo has him working overtime on the crystal samples from Sector III

right now,” she put her hands on her hip.

I rolled my own dark brown eyes that echoed my mother’s.

“Pablo would like to have everyone work overtime if Home Base allowed it.”

My declaration was followed by a melodramatic flop backwards onto the bed behind me. My mom came over and bent down.

“Just keep the sharp tongue here. Do you remember the last time that Pablo heard someone criticize his leadership?”

“Fine, but they might be listening in here anyway,” I sat up and pointed at the sensors in the corner of the room. “It would be just like them to be that creep to have little cameras hidden in everyone’s rooms...”

“You know that the law prevents them from invading our privacy like that,” she took a step back and shook her head.

“Like they’ve let a law stop them before…” I muttered.

“Asha, don’t be so dramatic. Let’s go get some dinner. Your father will catch up.”

Knowing that it was useless to convince her to wait for dad, I got up and followed her through the airlock and into the connector that led towards the galley. Trailing behind her, I looked out at the desolate landscape that was beginning to darken.

Only eleven more Earth months left until we leave…

Despite the challenges faced on Earth, I was ready to return. It had been years since the Pan and life for most people had stabilized from those days of the plague that my parents seldom spoke about. The thought of having to endure several additional years alone here if the spacecraft weren’t ready by next year’s arrival date seemed unbearable.

I won’t become like the rest of them here…

An image of myself sitting rigid and mechanical in a research pod came to mind. As we continued down the tube towards the exit, I cringed at the picture of the robot me that I would eventually become if trapped here without another kid around for much longer.

Stepping out the opposite end, we arrived at the dining area. The room was large and its white walls were dotted with portholes. We took a seat at an empty, rectangular, gray table in the back. After setting down our water bottles, we headed for the long white counter where dinner was being served.

“Hello Roy,” my mom nodded towards a large, pale man passing by with a full tray.

“Hello Anika,” Roy nodded his red head in my mother’s direction and then turned slightly to me as he continued walking. Little red spikes of shadow dotted his cheeks as well as the top of his head. “Hello Asha.”

“Good evening Roy,” I made sure to smile as he made his way past us and towards his seat. “Always soooooo good to see you,” I whispered under my breath after he was out of earshot.

“Asha…” my mother frowned as she approached the counter full of bins of rolls and soup to stand next to me.

“What? Can’t someone be friendly around here?” I looked down into the pot and saw some of the peppers from one of the greenhouses floating on top of the tomato broth.

“You know that he is the last person you want on your bad side,” my mother whispered.

“Oh no, he won’t want to sign my yearbook…” I poured a scoop into the plain white cup on my tray.

“It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie,” she scolded me as she made her way to her seat at the dining table.

“A fitting comparison,” I called out as I trailed behind.

Taking a seat, I knew my mom was right. With our return trip pending and there not being a lot of traffic between here and home, it was best not to irritate the man who was the Communications Link for the remainder of our term here.

“Sorry,” I scooped a spoonful of broth full of bits of carrots.

“It’s just best not to provoke him any more than absolutely necessary,” my mom sharply replied as we returned to the table.

The two of us ate dinner without much conversation amid the tables of diners. Upon finishing my meal, I turned to my mom with my arms locked in symmetrical bent positions.

“I have consumed my intake of nutrition for the day,” I uttered in what I thought to be an awesome mechanical voice.

She turned her head and raised a dark, black eyebrow, struggling to suppress her smirk.

I pivoted the top half of my body back around and powered down my arms. Slowly, my head lowered and my eyes closed as though shutting down.

“What? I was just sharing with you about my lovely meal...”

“Yes, and thank you,” she couldn’t help but smile. “It seems like we need to get you home before you shut down for the evening.”

Just as she finished, the intercom system crackled to life. The background noise of the dining area ground to complete silence as we waited for the message.

“Tomorrow, there will be a meeting for all colonists at 0700 in the dining area,” Pablo’s voice cut through the silence. “Work schedules will be adjusted appropriately and shared in the morning to accommodate the meeting.”

Mom chewed on her lip.

“A meeting for the whole complex? We’ve never had to do that before.” I looked around at some of the other colonists who had quit eating and now were engrossed in whispered conversations at their tables.

“There hasn’t been one since we arrived.” Her face looked somber. “There hasn’t been a colony-wide meeting since Cycle Three as far as I know.”

“Do you think it’s about Francois?”

My mother hesitated before answering quietly.

“I would guess so...”

A cold shiver went up my spine as I wondered what exactly the Commander would share about the colonist that had disappeared into the sands.