Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
NORA
Nora’s eyes grew heavy as she watched the nature documentary from a time when Earth’s weather patterns and ocean tides hadn’t been so volatile.
Even though most of the animals had long since gone extinct, the narrator had a lovely British accent.
Both he and the koalas, who were lazily eating leaves on-screen, had died at least a couple of centuries earlier.
Beside the lazy sock pile lay her comm terminal. She’d been staring at it, willing the green light to turn blue, indicating an incoming message from Earth—from her mom. Even a single response to the daily messages she’d sent her mother would be enough to forgive her.
A sudden rattle ran through the exterior walls. Nora’s bunk rocked side to side.
She bolted upright. In her whole time aboard, the Abeona had never swayed like a boat.
Outside her door, the hall lights flickered—not unusual when testing the stabilizing thrusters. But that only happened during daytime hours and was accompanied by no fewer than ten warnings to avoid panic.
Before she could check if it was a drill, her door burst open.
“Rise and shine, Egg.” Her uncle slammed the door behind him. He wore a wet cloth around his face. “Get dressed—you’re going to Mars.”
Nora stared at him as he propped a chair under the door handle. “You’re not allowed in the women’s dorms—”
“Where’s the bag you packed?”
She jerked back, pulling the scratchy covers over her knees. The distinct, troubling odor of smoke hung in the air around them. “I-I made a small first-aid kit but didn’t finish packing. I’m sorry. W-What’s going on?”
Joe grabbed her purple work bag from the floor.
“That’s fine. I’ll pack. You get dressed.
” He began shoving things into her bag. To her horror, he wrenched open her drawer with such force that it flew off the tracks.
Unbothered, he grabbed a handful of her panties and a bra—the ratty one—and shoved them into the bag. Then stuffed the sock pile in.
Her lips tingled, the smoke overpowering. Shadows sprinted past the blocked door. There was shouting, too, but the ringing in her ears made it difficult to hear.
With a knot tightening in her stomach, she leapt out of bed and frantically groped around the floor for the previous day’s clothes. Her arms trembled, but she managed to pull her turtleneck over her head and button her pants.
“Put this on.” Joe roughly pressed something sharp into her palm. “It might confuse them for a second.”
She held up what he had forced into her hand—a silver chain with a large cross.
When she didn’t move to put it on, her uncle made a frustrated sound and tugged it out of her hand. “It might slow them down,” he explained, clasping it around her neck. “Make them think you’re one of them.”
Nora looked down. The cross sat against her chest, too large and out of place. She gulped, but the air was too thick with smoke, and she started to cough. Joe tied a wet shirt around her face. “‘Them’?”
“The freighter came—full of those fucking Ascended Angels. They’re just kids, Egg.
Teenagers. I tried to block their dock, but something is fucked.
I don’t know if it’s the proton storms or what, but my orders were blocked.
” He helped thread her arms, useless as wet noodles, through the straps of her bag.
“I knew it. The comms were all strange yesterday—poetic. Like in code. Someone let them on, and I’ll be damned if I don’t find out who. ”
A voice bellowed from the hall: “It is time for all His Children to come home, for He is calling for our return.”
The man’s voice came close as he crossed in front of her door. Nora opened her mouth, but Joe crushed a heavy palm across her mouth.
“All of you among the stars have sinned, but the Angels forgive, and they have arrived to ferry us all to His Kingdom.” The voice repeated itself until it faded as the man speaking turned the corner into another corridor.
Nora scratched at Joe’s arm, and he let her go. She turned to find him smiling. “I told you—they’re fucking nuts. You ready to go?” He kicked the chair away from the door.
“Why?” she asked, stupidly. “I want to stay here.”
He pulled his programming glasses down, scowling. “Didn’t you hear them? They’re trying to take you home. Do you know what that means? They’re going to fucking kill you. You’ve got to go.”
“Why to Valhalla? I’ve never been to Mars—”
“Who knows what the fuck is happening Earthside if these jokers made it aboard.”
“But Mom—”
“Atmospheric imbalance detected.” The warning alarm blared, full force, cutting Nora off.
“Please report to the nearest supplemental chamber until repairs are complete. Walk. Do not run. Thank you again for choosing to be humanity’s future and for trusting us on your first step to the stars. We appreciate your cooperation.”
Joe grabbed her wrist and held it tight. “You ready to run?”
“No.” Her mind was useless, unable to function with the alarm and lights smashing into her brain.
“Good.” Joe kicked the chair out of the way, pushed the door open, and sprinted down the hall, taking her with him.
Nora floated in a semiconscious state, watching from above as Joe dragged them against the tide of frenzied people rushing to the supplemental chambers.
She wanted to ask why they were going in the opposite direction of everyone else, but her head felt packed with bees buzzing in time with the alarm.
She ignored the shadows on the floor, the puddles of red, the cries of confusion.
She focused on the sting on her wrist where Joe pinched her hard.
Now, under the bright hall lights, she saw that Joe held a knife dripping with blood—dark and fresh. If Nora had eaten that sandwich like he’d wanted, she would have thrown it up.
As they ran, she saw that every service panel had been ripped open, with wires torn from their roots in tangles of sparks and smoke. Whatever oxygen remained was being depleted with each breath, replaced with fumes and the smell of burning rubber.
They entered a barely used service corridor leading to the crew shuttles.
“Wrong way!” a voice called out. A man scuffled toward them from the far side, shivering and hunched. He clutched a machete to his chest, gripping it with two hands, and pointed it outward as if he’d never seen how to hold one, not even in the movies.
“Go to the meeting place as we told you!” His voice cracked, the red bandana he wore over his face flaring out with panicked breath.
His bloodshot eyes widened as they locked on the cross necklace around Nora’s neck.
“You bear the cross!” he said, suddenly overjoyed. He let the machete drop to his side as if the weight had been killing him. “The Lord has sent believers—”
A swift whoosh flew past Nora’s head. The man fell back, the handle of Joe’s knife protruding from his shoulder. The man reached for it, oddly silent.
Joe rushed forward, taking advantage of the man’s confusion, and knocked his head twice into the floor. The man fell limp.
Nora heaved, everything wobbling.
“Don’t worry,” Joe said, grabbing her again. “He’ll wake up soon. If we’re not all already dead.”
He yanked open the shuttle room’s airlock latch and pulled her in. He slammed the door shut, then sagged against it. “I swear to God, some of these fuckers are too eager to meet their maker.”
Nora braced against the wall, still heaving and now shivering.
A crew shuttle, the size of a truck and shaped like a cylinder with fins like a fish, sat before them.
Next to it, a mechanic’s cart blinked with various functions, ready to work.
Everything seemed to be in its designated place—no blood, no screaming, no dead bodies strewn about.
Joe’s purpose and intent for Nora loomed over her, inescapable as he passed her a comfort suit. He looked down. “We forgot your shoes.”
It felt like a wave had hit her, one she’d underestimated in force and height. Her right knee finally gave out.
Joe caught her, helped her down, and put her legs into the suit pants. “Just like when you were a little girl.” He chuckled.
Then he left her to key into the control terminal.
“Here’s what’ll happen, Egg: I’m sending you to Valhalla through the H-Gates.
You remember the research colony on Mars, don’t you?
” He said it as if he were sending her off to summer camp.
“I’ve already told them you’re coming—ask for Davis when you get there. ”
Nora felt his hands close over hers as he continued: “I think it’ll feel weird to go through the H-Gates, and I know you’re already afraid of flying. I’m going to give you some medicine to help. Sonoret. It’ll put you to sleep.” He looked her up and down impatiently. “Do you need help dressing?”
“No.” Her suit gaped open, her hands shaking too much to grab the tiny zipper pull. The shoulder seams dropped too low on her arms. She floundered in it like a mouse in a tent.
“Nora?”
“Can I call Mom first? I know messages from Mars are delayed, and they can’t do voice.” Even if her mom never told her she loved her anymore, Nora wanted to hear her voice.
“There’s no time,” Joe said. He zipped her up, then fed her braid down the back of her collar. He hummed a song she might’ve recognized if the pounding of her blood weren’t deafening.
He returned to the terminal, his fingers flying across the keys.
“Can…people even go through the H-Gates?”
Joe frowned, thinking. “I’ve been testing it for years—since before you were born. I’m sure it’s safe for people.” He turned to her. “The sandwich made it, and its layers were all fine, right?”
Nora let out a loud sob.
“And we’ve been sending livestock to Mars for years—none of them died. Plus, I wheeled in a stasis pod after dinner, so you’re extra protected. I had a feeling, you know? Glad I listened.”
“Oh, okay,” she said through the tears. “What if I crash into the base?” Nora heard her own voice: small, scared, and strangely resigned.