Page 29 of The Brightness Between Us

“—and then those dormant clones will be installed on theEndeavor.The ship will be run by its operating system for thousands of years at a time, and then when it has accumulated enough small damages that the ship cannot fix on its own, one of your clones will be awoken. He will believe, as you did until just a few minutes ago, that he is flying to Titan.”

My head is on the table, my brain thundering with blood. I cover my eyes with the bulk of my arms, so I’m in the most absolute darkness a human body can produce. All the while, my mother’s words continue: “Our psychological simulations indicate that knowing the reality of your mission—that you won’t be arriving at the exoplanet location, or anywhere off the ship, during your lifetime—would prevent your clones from being able to fulfill their duties due to despair and possible suicidal ideation. We needed you to believe in the Titan mission, so the ship could operate as though it were rescuing Minerva and the clones would have a sense of purpose during their limited time on the ship.”

“‘Limited time on the ship’?” I ask the darkness between me and the tabletop, moist from my breath.

“Yes, each clone will pass a limited time on the ship.”

I lift my head, wiping drool from my lips. “You’re going to kill them.”

She looks angry now. Angry at my weakness.

How dare she.My words spill out hot. “So you expect me to board anyway tomorrow, even though you lied to me about the mission? Even though I won’t be getting off the ship?”

She blinks at me. “Oh, my darling. Of course not. I wouldn’t send you on a mission like that. To live for only a brief window? How horrible. I guess I wasn’t clear. You’re not going on the mission at all. Your clones are. But they are not you.”

“I’m... what, just going back to classes as normal tomorrow?”

“You finished your coursework early, so that’s up to you. But yes, once we’ve announced the changed mission, you’re free to do as you like. You’ll graduate along with your peers.”

My voice and mind are someone else’s, processing this information for me and then speaking it in my head loudly. Too loudly. “So I got chosen for this mission because...”

“Because you are a capable spacefarer. Because younger bodies are more resistant to the radiation of space travel.And most importantly, because you are my precious child. A Cusk will be the future of humanity. If Earth falls, you will be the only hope for humankind. And it couldn’t be in better hands. Who better to provide the inspiring tale that unites Earth, and make a new world in case this one fails?”

The stomach acid that already rose up once today is back, this time ascending to my Adam’s apple. I swallow it down, relishing the burn, familiar from zero-gravity training. My instinct is to get the hell out of this room as fast as I can, but I know I might not get the chance to ask my mother any questions again for a long time. “It won’t be me, though, will it? You said that yourself. It will be my clone. I trained my whole life for this. I was going to rescue Minnie. Who isdead.You lied to me about my fundamental purpose.”

“That’s a little dramatic. Understandably so, of course. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. There will be other solar-system-based missions you can undertake. Maybe we’ll try again to settle Titan. We’ll still investigate Minerva’s failed base. You would be a terrific candidate for that.”

“Mother, this is impossible. Tell me that you haven’t done this to me.” The dreadful enormity of what I’ve just heard opens up, sucking down all the other thoughts in my mind. “That you haven’t done this tothem.”

“Them who?” she asks.

“Me! Them. My clones.”

“One of them will be the most important person in a new world. The founding god in the pantheon of a new Cusk civilization. And the rest are... creations that serve the purpose of bringing the ultimate clone to that position. It’s like they’re a community, working in perfect unison so that the group will find glory. Like bees.”

“Likebees! And I—”

“You will remain here on Earth, like the rest of us.”

“I’m still leaving tomorrow to rescue Minerva,” I say stubbornly. Even as I say it, I know it makes no sense. I can’t hijack a spaceship. And Minerva’s distress beacon never triggered, which I should have known was too improbable anyway after two years of silence. She’s dead. I should have always known she was dead. There is no one for me to rescue. But my brain is simultaneously beyond that simple fact and tripping behind it.

“Your ship will be in use, traveling to the second planet orbiting Sagittarion Bb—or ‘Planet Cusk,’ as we’ll call it. Look, darling, I need you to take a moment in this private room. You’d have had more time to cope with this news if you hadn’t been late. Rage and cry if you want to. No one is here to witness it. Take ten minutes to put yourself together, then you’ll head down the elevators to the grand hall, where you’ll sit at the press dais—your sole job being not to fidget—and we’ll explain to everyone that Minerva’sdistress signal stopped, that the Titan base finally was able to send us ambient data confirming methane poisoning, that the mission has been canceled. That—in a glorious reveal—we will take advantage of the advanced preparation stage of theEndeavorto travel to a new home for humanity. They will all understand how upset you must be, and you can take as much time as you want to recuperate. I know you don’t understand right now, that you’re angry and confused, but you’ll come to see what an honor I’ve granted you. Minerva’s name will already be praised for all time because her mission captured the imaginations of both Dimokratía and Fédération, even though it didn’t succeed. Imagine howyouwill be known! Who has ever had an opportunity for greatness like this?”

I stand.

I pick up my chair.

I hurl it at the window.

It bounces off harmlessly, skidding across the room.

My mother straightens her shirt, waiting for me to calm down.

I start pacing. “This is not greatness! It’s utter greed and cruelty! You sent out versions of me to live and die on a mission that is doomed to fail. Twenty of me, suffering under a lie, with no way to know the truth.” I’m dumbstruck. It’s not anger animating me anymore; it’s horror, horror worse than from watching any hyperreal torturereel. What has been done to me?

Who is this person who raised me?

I stagger to the vault-like door. I pull at it, but it refuses to open. “Mother, let me out of here.”

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