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“And . . . no. ”
“No?”
“No, I don’t know how to use the pump. ”
Bartie smiles at me, his old smile, like he used to do when we raced rockers. I kneel down beside the pump. It doesn’t look that difficult, but when I reach for the handle, Bartie says, “Don’t do that. ”
“Why not?”
Bartie shrugs. “You’ll just spray the water everywhere. Unless you want to waste it, you’ll have to divert it. ”
I reach for a switch. “Nope,” he says.
“Frex, fine!” I say, throwing up my hands. “You do it. ”
Bartie bends down and flips two switches, spins a dial, and starts up the pump. I can hear gurgling, churning sounds, but it takes a while before the water level seems to go lower. Once it does, though, the water drains out faster and faster. The lotus flowers float limply as the water level sinks, their pale pink petals stained brown from mud. Their long stems look almost like strands of hair caught in the mud. I swallow hard, remembering the way Kayleigh’s hair floated in the pond.
“It’s almost done!” Victria calls excitedly. This is the first time I’ve seen her really smile in . . . months. “Are we supposed to see something in the water yet?”
Amy jumps into the muddy hole before all the water’s out. Her feet sink into the silt, staining the hems of her trousers. She sloshes forward to the center of the pond.
“It’s here!” she calls, pulling the roots of a lotus plant out of the round handle sticking up from the top of the hatch. “It’s here!” she squeals excitedly.
“Wow,” Victria mutters.
“Is this something else you’re going to use to coerce us? Another ‘grand’ scene like showing everyone the planet?” Bartie asks, and whatever in him that was friendly before is gone now.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” I say loudly. “Let’s all go down. ”
Amy twists the handle to the hatch. I skid into the pond, fighting against the sucking mud to reach her side. The others follow me in. I’m worried about them—should we let them follow us down into the unknown? But when Amy sees my face, she nods, once, as if telling me that they should come too. We lift the lid up before the water’s gone, and some of it sloshes down the hole. A ladder stretches into the darkness.
“Come on,” Amy says, pulling one leg free from the murky pond bottom and stepping onto the ladder. Before I can say anything else, she’s already climbing down.
I lower the hatch lid over my head. I don’t like the feeling of being trapped in the narrow space—it’s so tight I can reach out both arms and touch the sides—but the idea of leaving the hatch open is worse. If someone thinks to follow us down, at least we’ll have some warning when the lid is raised again. . . .
We climb down quickly, eager to be out of the confined space. As we reach the area between the levels, it gets even colder.
My breath comes out heavy, and the warm air bounces around the enclosed space. Chilly sweat drips down my back, making me shiver.
“Where are we?” Victria asks wonderingly.
“On a ladder,” Bartie says.
“I know that, chutz. I meant, in terms of the ship. ”
“We’re going to find out,” Amy says as her feet hit something solid. “We’re here. ”
We all jump down beside her. There’s another hatch—we spin it open, and a smaller ladder automatically drops down, stopping at the floor beneath. Amy goes down first, and I follow her.
This is a bridge.
It mirrors the one on the Shipper Level in miniature. The window is smaller, but it still faces the planet. Victria turns her back to the planet, but the rest of us all stand, still stunned speechless by the sight of the massive blue and green orb. It seems so achingly close. The control panel angles under the window, rows of desks behind it. I think about what Shelby told me, how—if all goes well, and if these controls work like the ones on the main Bridge—you can just hit the autopilot button on the front of the control panel, and the ship will land itself.
Propped up on top of the autopilot button is a floppy, already loaded with a mem card.
“The last vid,” Amy says.
“What is it?” Bartie asks, picking up the floppy.
