Page 23 of Bound by Stars

Jupiter

Nineteen days to Mars

Three days later, the image of Weslie lying limp on her bedroom floor still haunts me.

I stick close to her as our class is herded onto the bridge.

We shuffle in a single-file line along the back of the room, above levels of workstations descending like tiered seating in a theater in front of a wall of glass.

Dull overhead lights are dimmed by the gray walls, amplifying the brightness of the stars ahead and the colorful lights that blink on and off among the displays of screens.

Asha jumps in between Weslie and a girl with pigtails on her other side. “My dad’s first mate showed up early this morning with a full report of the incident in your block. Apparently, it was shut down manually, but they only caught the person who did it on a couple of cameras.”

I lean around Weslie. “They know who did it?”

Asha shakes her head. “Someone in a black hooded sweatshirt. They kept their face covered the whole time and stayed on the edge of the frame.”

A few of the bridge crew, clad in matching navy blue jackets, glance back before silently returning to work.

I whisper, “A sweatshirt isn’t much to go on.”

Weslie rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing. All they know is that a human did it. A human who managed to get hold of an incredibly rare black hoodie.”

“Captain Nazari!” Calypso waves the man over as he enters the room.

Asha gives a discreet wave.

Her father, a tall man in a navy-blue suit with the same brass-edged white star pin on his lapel that the other crew members wear, nods at his daughter.

Under salt-and-pepper stubble, his face is pale.

No hint of Asha’s beautiful golden hue. But they have the same smile, the same gentle eyes.

He removes his hard-brimmed captain’s cap to reveal a swoop of neat, thick hair and shakes Calypso’s hand.

“Welcome. We’re happy to have you all. Orion and Sofie here will be giving you a tour of the bridge. ”

Beside him, two crew members, a short, serious-looking man and a woman with fire-red hair, stand at attention.

We’re split into two groups. Asha frowns, turning right with half the class, while Wes and I are ushered left with the other.

Orion leads us around the upper level of the bridge.

On the way, Weslie walks beside me. “I had a thought about ILSA’s plans.”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.

Wes’s lips part and then she clamps her mouth shut as we’re ushered into Navigation, packed tightly around a large table displaying a hologram of specks. Too close to whisper without everyone hearing.

At one edge, Earth is tiny, but clearly blue.

On the other end is Mars, the little red planet no larger than a pinhead.

A trail of purple dots in consistent intervals track the course to Mars.

Behind the blinking ship icon, they are faint.

Ahead of it, they shine like tiny beacons. Resupply barges, I assume.

“With the holomap, we’re able to identify potential hazards on our route and map course corrections.

” Orion puts his hands together over the map like he’s going to dive into it, then parts them and the area enlarges, zooming in.

Space debris takes form. Scattered bits of craggy rock.

An asteroid field. He releases the enlarged image and swipes a hand over the table.

The Boundless takes form like a glowing orange line drawing.

Orion expands it until it’s the only thing hovering over the surface.

He brushes away the top level and pulls the arboretum until it’s the size of a dinner plate.

A list of readings for the room glows green in the center.

Oxygen levels. Temperature. Humidity. “We can also keep an eye on systems throughout the ship.”

He nods and turns, waving us on.

As the class follows, I tug on Weslie’s wrist. “Tell me your idea. About ILSA’s plans.”

“I was thinking we could animate them. Make them more interactive.”

A broad shoulder slams into mine. “Careful, cousin…” Hale glances at Weslie on my other side. “You know her kind carry disease, right?”

I spin toward him, but Weslie grabs my hand and whispers, “Not worth it, remember?”

“My threat from the pool still stands,” I remind him.

The smug expression falls from his face, and he cuts ahead in the line of students. “Whatever.”

Orion leads us to the bottom of the bridge, through the terminals, and up the other side, delivering a full dissertation on space travel advancement.

The group comes to a stop, meeting up with the second half of the class at the starboard wall.

Sofie guides us all to amphitheater seating. “And this is where we gather for crew meetings and announcements. Please, everyone, take a seat.”

I climb to the top, following Weslie. Curran sits on my other side.

Orion and Sofie take turns explaining the basic tasks they perform to keep the ship running smoothly and then turn to the class for questions.

“What happens to everyone if the ship breaks down? Like the oxygen systems go offline for the entire ship?” someone at the back of the room asks.

I glance at Weslie, my chest tight, but she doesn’t seem to be affected. Like the oxygen being cut to her unit was just a normal part of life. Or maybe she’s just really good at hiding her feelings. Except for anger and annoyance. Those she shares freely.

Sofie and Orion exchange concerned glances.

Orion pastes on a reassuring expression.

“Well, that’s incredibly unlikely, but in the event of a major system shutdown, all passengers would be directed to escape pods.

There is a first-class bay connected to the living quarters level, second-class bays in the sublevels, and a few pods for the bridge crew just down the hall outside those doors.

Plenty of vessels to safely evacuate everyone on board. ”

I lower my head and lean toward Weslie so only she can hear. “Aren’t you concerned with who these people, the E.F.E., are?”

“Of course,” she says, staring straight ahead. The dim light brings out the green in her hazel eyes.

I remember the way she looked on the floor of her bedroom when the door opened.

Eyes closed. Pale. Unmoving. Before that moment she seemed impervious.

Like nothing and no one could ever hurt her, but even her stubbornness can’t beat oxygen deprivation.

That fluttering panic I felt when I held her limp body in my arms blooms in my stomach again.

In my memory, she transforms. Short, pale hair matted with blood, instead of Weslie’s dark curls. Burned flesh. Clothing melted to skin. Blood leaking from her mouth and ears. The way Andi looked when they found her, after the explosion. “Maybe you should stay with Asha.”

“Not this again,” she says under her breath.

“But—”

“I have ILSA. I’ll be fine.”

Calypso catches my eye, violently pointing at Weslie and then me, and pantomimes zipping their mouth shut.

I rest my elbows on my knees, holding my chin in my palm so I can cover my lips. “She’s not with you now.”

Wes lowers her head. “Good thing you’ve appointed yourself as my volunteer bodyguard, then.”

“No, I… You…” I sit up straighter. I didn’t consider how obvious I was being.

“You were waiting to walk me to lunch again yesterday and followed me to the gym. Then you stopped by my room three times last night with thoughts on my presentation that couldn’t wait until morning and shocker—you happened to be in my hall when I left for breakfast this morning.

Somehow, I caught on.” Weslie raises her eyebrows, keeping her attention on the two crew members answering student questions.

I desperately want to protect you.

I can’t say that. She might never talk to me again.

I need you to be all right.

No, that’s not right, either.

Seeing you lying there on the floor, dying, almost broke something inside of me, and maybe I should have realized it before, but I know now that I …

Nope, no way, I’m not even ready to hear that one.

“I just…don’t want anything to happen to you,” I finally respond.

The rest of the class stands around us.

“Please carefully make your way down and we’ll see you to the exit.” Sofie motions toward the door.

“You’ve been an excellent group. Hopefully this has been an exciting and informative visit.” Captain Nazari approaches, inclining his chin to Calypso.

They respond with a wide grin. “Thank you, Captain. We’re all grateful for the opportunity. Right, class?”

Staggered thanks and half-hearted agreements roll through the group.

I jump off the last step and offer Weslie a hand, fully prepared for her to shove it away, but her fingers wrap around mine. A calm feeling, like warm liquid, floods my veins.

She steps down next to me but doesn’t let go.

“Mr. Dalloway, good to see you,” the captain calls.

My father approaches, returning the captain’s greeting. With a quick scan, he spots me hanging back from the rest of the class with Weslie. His gaze drops to our linked hands. His expression turns sad, mouth scrunched sympathetically when he meets my eyes again.

I let go, taking a half step away from her.

Dad smiles at the captain, engaging in a mutual greeting. “Just came in to say hello. Don’t let me get in the way.”

He won’t say anything. It was nothing anyway. Weslie can barely tolerate me on a good day. Even if it did mean something to me.

The bandage on my right hand tightens around my clenched palm.

The still-healing cut is tender and reminds me of the way she took my wrist so gently in her hands.

The genuine concern on her face while ILSA patched me up.

What if she… No. Even if she did, if we did, it would all be over by the time we stepped off the ship.

I’d still be locked into the future my mother has planned for me.

Going where she dictates, doing what she tells me to do, and, eventually, marrying the person she’s chosen.

“Who takes over captaining the ship if you can’t for some reason?” Hale stops in front of Captain Nazari.

“That’s an excellent question.” The captain waves him over to survey the amphitheater below and points at a station at the center of the second level. One Orion and Sofie already explained to all of us.

“For the standard day-to-day tasks, we have an advanced system that can automatically control the ship and send direct alerts to the bridge crew in an emergency. But my chief mate”—he waves to a woman in Navigation, who salutes in return—“she takes the helm when I am needed elsewhere or if something were to render me incapable of doing my job.”

I wish there were someone who could take my place like that.

Rendered incapable by my own desire to do literally anything else.

After two years of my mother’s lectures and hours upon hours of private tutoring sessions, playing the part of the Dalloway heir still feels like putting on an ill-fitting costume. Like wearing someone else’s clothes.

“And if she weren’t able to take my place, responsibility is passed to the second mate, then third mate, then deck cadet, and so on.”

Hale nods like it’s the most interesting bit of information he’s ever heard. He’s so obviously sucking up that it’s painful to watch. I wonder what he’s angling for this time. Is he slipping something out of the man’s pocket or buttering him up to get some kind of information or access code?

“There’s a whole chain of command in place so that everyone and everything is taken care of, always,” the captain finishes with another wide, reassuring grin.

A chain. Hale. My mother’s sister’s son. A direct blood descendant. Three back in the chain of inheritors. He’s a link. An insufferable jerk, but still a link. If I step aside, legally the responsibility would pass to him. Could I do it? Would I? Give Andi’s legacy away to someone like him?

In front of me, Weslie brushes her hair over her shoulder.

Ignoring my dad’s close observation, I step up beside her, letting the back of my fingers brush against hers.

She turns her head, lips twisting around a half smile.

Maybe my future isn’t set in stone. Maybe there’s another way. Maybe I would.

“Jupiter!” my dad calls out, waving me over.

“Later, Big Six.” Weslie turns to follow Asha toward the door.

Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’ve been tasked with getting you to your tutoring session today.”

“Great,” I say with more sarcasm than I intended.

“Cheer up, bud. It’s a lesson, not a prison sentence.” He ruffles my hair and heads out the door.

Don’t invite the comparison.

My comm vibrates, and I pull back my sleeve.

Asha: This is Wes. Can you get away tonight? After dinner?

I have to read it twice before I believe it. She’s asking me to meet her. Weslie. The girl who acted like spending time with me was a punishment just a couple of weeks ago.

Message to Asha: Where should I meet you?