Chapter 2
Two
My worn boots echo down the pristine floors of the lengthy hallway.
My body aches, a bone-deep exhaustion from spending the remaining hours of daylight reaping and restarting the sowing process.
Expansive windows line the extent of the spoke, and I catch my reflection.
My tank top sticks to my body, slick with sweat and dirt.
The cargo pants I rely on in the Gardens have worn knees that threaten to burst open with each passing step.
A worn, pale yellow bandana hangs limply on my neck, muddied to a spotty brown.
I separated my hair into two braids on each side of my face, but it looks like most of the yellow strands in the front have come loose after a hard day’s work.
My body is curvy but strong. I take pride in that strength—in my ability to complete most tasks with ease. I’m not sure I would consider myself pretty, but I don’t have the luxury of thinking about what that would feel like. Regardless, my body was mine, and I’m grateful for all it can do.
Dark circles linger below my emerald eyes.
I worked through dinner to finish my tasks for the day, and my body is begging to rest. Sometimes, the unit takes advantage of my adaptability, and I end up with more assignments than the rest. Not that I even know who does the assigning.
They’re always watching, assessing, and analyzing.
Could be the Kosmos themselves for all I know, not that they’d waste their energy on us.
Usually, this line of intrusive thinking doesn’t bother me, but tonight, as the exhaustion creeps in and slithers through my body, a slow, raging burn takes root.
What I wouldn't give for more time to explore interests, pursue relationships, and simply live. Slowly, I proceed down the empty hall, feeling as if I’m dirtying the space covered in soil.
Our unit and others nearby are all intentionally designed similarly for uniformity, or so we have been informed.
The Commons remains at the core, where citizens share meals and downtime.
Branching off of this central location are many halls leading to antechambers and rooms beyond.
Like spokes on a wheel, each hall serves a purpose, leading to a designated area.
My unit specifically had the Gardens, the Kitchen, the Infirmary, the Knittery, the Library, the Nursery, the Repairs, the Labs, and the Chambers.
The spoke I’m traveling on, like all the others, feels sterile and devoid of life.
Whoever designed these units, the Kosmos knows, but they’re charmless and cold.
While I know other units are similar, I cannot help but wonder what life is like for others in units across space.
Sometimes in orbit, I can glimpse their building.
Do they operate the same? Do they look the same?
Those with special clearance have access to telecoms, but even if I had one, it’s not like I have anyone to contact.
Shaking my train of thought, I near the end of the hall and can make out the wide entry to the Commons.
The white tiles glisten with a shine bouncing from the orb lights lining the way.
No other color exists unless you take a moment to admire the beauty beyond.
The moon brightens the vast blackness, as do the stars and their dust, littering the galaxy.
The colors glow and swirl in the distance, hues of purple and blue.
Living intergalactically is wholly encompassing.
I can just make out the alignment of the Scales—I’ll have to be sure to tell Jada her constellation is strong tonight.
Biting my lower lip, I try not to consider that The Twins have been challenging to locate lately and what that could mean.
Probably nothing, but their absence is strange.
The security system at the entrance to the Commons completes a head-to-toe scan of my body before sliding the glass doors open.
Soft piano music echoes through the mostly empty chamber.
The Commons is split into an interior and exterior corridor.
While the exterior corridor is fully enclosed by curved glass, offering unobstructed views of the outer orbit, it features various seating arrangements for dining and lounging.
The interior, however, is entirely functional.
The vaulted ceiling gives the space a larger-than-life feel, which is appreciated given the number of items crammed into it.
A community food bar that turns into a self-serve station at night runs parallel to the length of the space.
The spokes to the Kitchen can be found directly behind the food bar for quick access and food delivery.
Across the way sits an automated electric piano, elevated on a plush, deep blue platform.
Elongated tables and low-sitting couches take up the rest of the space, as do the doorways to each area of our unit.
Entrances to the spokes can be found both indoors and outdoors, with a glowing sign above each entrance highlighting what is beyond.
As I make my way diagonally across to the Chambers, I raise my hand in a wave towards my friend Xander, who is busy feasting at a table himself.
He gives me a wink and blows me a kiss before returning to his food.
Another scan leads me to the lifts, which transport us to the floors of our chambers.
I smile down at my feet as I enter the narrow tube.
The wink always gets me, sending butterflies rippling through my stomach.
The light blue streaks in his hair accentuate his bright blue eyes—another weakness of mine.
What can I say? The guy is handsome. The rest of his face is characterized by sharp angles, which complement his slender yet firm frame.
Xander has been a genuine friend and my favorite companion for more intimate endeavors.
He’s easy to talk to and always patient with my overworked brain, which has an endless stream of thoughts and ideas.
As an Aquarius, he welcomes my thoughts and ventures and looks for ways to make them come to life.
There is a simple comfort between us without labels, which makes the long days less cumbersome.
Three warning bells sound before I’m launched through the lift, air rushing past me, the whooshing roaring in my ears.
The lifts are individual tubes that maneuver us to the various floors of each area.
As my body slows, I flex my feet to prepare for landing before the door slides open and I pad onto the floor of my chamber.
Jada’s room shares a wall with mine, and the proximity is something I appreciate at this late hour.
I knock softly, in case she is already asleep, but almost immediately I hear her soft grumbles on the other side before she swings the door open.
“You really should check who it is before opening the door, you know.” I lean against her doorframe.
“No one is crazy enough except you to be knocking at this hour. What is this hour?” She rubs her eyes. “I lost track of time in a saucy romance novel.”
“You don’t want to know. Just wanted to check in before heading to bed. I’m sorry I missed dinner.”
“You work too hard, Zell-Bell. Go to sleep.”
“I am, I am. Love you.”
“Love you most.”
I sidestep to my door and slide open the eye-identifying lock. After a flash of light, the click of the bolt unlocking signals that I can enter. Not bothering to turn on the light, I strip off my clothes as I shuffle to bed, falling onto it and into endless darkness.