Instead of feeling like I’m in control, I’m keenly aware that I’mnot.
None of this helps with the fear.
I’ve been mostly unbothered since Zesi and Heath left, miraculously, except for twice-daily food deliveries from Haven or Natalin and the occasional text from Leo.Everything under control, he wrote once. I decided to treat it like an update, not a question, given the lack of punctuation.Excellent, thank you, I wrote back, an answer that would suffice either way.
Otherwise, I’ve kept entirely to myself. Natalin and Haven and Leo still think I’m trying to crack a cure for the virus—that’s the only reason I can come up with for how thoroughly they’ve left me to my work. I’m not about to tell them the truth of what I’ve discovered, though. Not yet.
This morning, my objective is simple: If the blood at the scene wasn’t coughed up by Jaako or Kerr... where did it come from? My lab is equipped with the most advanced DNA tech out there—crucial for a space station meant to analyze samples discovered on Radix or any other non-Earth planets we eventually explore. It’s fast, it’s accurate, it’s very straightforward. I’ll run tests on the blood and see what I find.
I place a droplet of blood on the slide, secure it in place by pressing another slide down on top. The slide sandwich fitssnugly into the machine, right into a depression of the exact same shape. I power it on and wait.
Thirteen minutes, that’s all it will take—a vast improvement over DNA machines of old. Thirteen minutes foranswers.
It seems impossibly far away, especially now. I should have dragged myself out of half sleep at three-morning instead of four. Any other time, really. It’s two minutes past the thirty-six-hour return-from-Nautilusmark, and there’s nothing I can do now but wait. For test results, for their return.
Not even music from the old data pod is comforting. I turn it on, then immediately turn it off—the tone is too light for this moment, the beat too relentless. It only adds to the chaos in my head. I tap around, find a file labeledNature Sounds, and click into it. A grid of images fills the screen, each matching its label:thunderstorm,ocean breeze,jungle nights,bamboo forest, along with a planet’s worth of others.
At first, I assume this file exists simply because the first generation wanted a reminder of home. Once I selectbamboo forest, though, it’s clear that isn’t the only reason. It’s peaceful, steady in a way that doesn’t compete with the noise in my mind—rather, it tames it. I close my eyes, rest my head on the island. For the first time, I feel like maybe I’ve missed out by never having been on Earth. I start to wonder: Does this soundtrack do justice to a real bamboo forest? Did my mother ever visit one? Was it full of fireflies like the one from her childhood? Did my mother miss these sorts of sounds when she traded them for the constant hum of the station?
It simply never occurred to me that Earth would sound so different than the station—that there would be so manydifferentkinds of sounds, on top of that. I’ve always loved life on theLusca, but for the first time, it makes me wonder if my mother ever questioned her decision to live out her days here. If she ever regretted it.
I wish I could ask her. The hole in my heart cracks around its edges, crumbles. It gets a little wider each day.
I close my eyes, do my best to shake off these feelings. Focus on all the things Icantry to fix, not the things that are impossibly broken.
Six minutes and forty-two seconds have passed since I started the test. It’s still a little early to expect Heath and Zesi to return, but not impossible—assuming they coordinated withNautilus’s team and the supplies were already in the hangar, like they were supposed to be, that seems like a reasonable amount of time to load them up and settle back into the bee.
I take out my buzz screen, type a message to Leo.Any sign of them yet?
Heath and Zesi?he immediately sends back. I resist the urge to ask, well, who else?
It’s ten past 36 hours, I reply.Let me know as soon as they dock?
For sure, he sends back.Sry, of course you meant Heath and Zesi. Just woke up.
Right. Not everyone gets up at four-morning.Thanks. I’m in Portside if you need me.
Things going okay there?
I sit so long trying to come up with the perfect response, the DNA machine startles me when it beeps.
I’ll let you know, I type quickly, but delete it before hitting send.Going like usual, I send instead.
I abandon the buzz screen on the island, hurry over to see the results as they fill the machine’s display panel. The display is a mess of information, more details on it than I could ever hope to decode. That’s the thing about this machine: it may be simple to operate, but it still requires a trained eye to interpret the results. Fortunately, its creator recognized the need for a basic summation of results in addition to results that could be mined for months—that’s what I’m waiting on, for the field that saysSEARCHING FOR MATCHto replace itself with something I can use.
I wait. And wait.
Finally,SEARCHING FOR MATCHdisappears, leaving a void behind. Two seconds pass, and then:MATCH FOUND—Alexandra Tovar, DOB 09/15/2107.
My heart climbs to my throat.
Alexandra Tovar was Leo’s mother.
39
UNRAVEL
ALEXANDRA TOVAR WAS one of the last to pass.
