Page 41 of The Brightness Between Us

After I scan through security, the uniformed facilitator explains that the Dimokratía spacefarer will live and work on one side, while the Fédération spacefarer—“me”—will occupy the other. Given that our countries only communicate in highly brokered summits, and that even those have fallen through lately, the relative isolation of the two spacefarers was deemed necessary unless our countries have a political breakthrough. Given the news today, that seems like a remote possibility indeed.

I take in theAurora. Somewhere in there are twentycopies of a stranger from a hostile country, who will be my only companion. A young man—all the Dimokratía spacefarers are male—whom I will never meet.Who are you?

Violin case clutched at my side, I tread along the observation catwalk that runs above the ship, watching as technicians in jumpsuits and face masks pass UV lamps along the hull, the jets of supporting air setting their hair whipping around their heads as they scan for imperfections. They’re accompanied by warbot-framed military robot attendants, providing data support and replacement supplies instead of rocket launchers and machine guns. Warbots are no joke. Even these good shepherd versions give me a sharp pang of fear.

As I make my way down the hangar to the center, where the ships join, I find two clumps of soldiers. They wear slightly different camouflage, flecks of red in the Dimokratía one, blue in the Fédération. The Fédération soldiers take a long time checking and rechecking my authorization, then Dimokratía starts over and does the same, scanning my pass again and again. If I weren’t a Cusk scion that the press corps wants to keep happy and quiet until the ship launches, I’d never even be considered to go on board. Even with my status as it is, my chances are low.

While they do their checks, I step back and take in the joint craft. Despite my horror at what’s being done, it’s awe-inspiring, this colossus of engineering. The same levelof grandeur—though not the beauty—of a redwood or a blue whale. Like it or hate it, we humans have done something remarkable.

The red-flecked soldiers get on their bracelets, peering at me while they speak rapid Dimokratía to their higher-ups. I can barely follow. Normally I’d be up in their faces, but the significance of what I’m about to do—beam a tell-all to the world—has me numb. I clutch my violin case in sweaty hands, like I’m waiting to go onstage for a recital. I guess I am.

A Fédération officer turns to me. “I don’t think this is going to be solved quickly. They don’t want you around the ship unlesstheyalso have a guest who gets to view the ship. They’ve got a person lined up already.” She drops her voice. “It’s ludicrous.”

I have a suspicion who’s gotten himself on the roster as their guest. But I’ll pretend to be outraged for a few moments at least. “Yes, totally ludicrous. Has anyone called Chairperson Cusk about this?” I ask.

“We’re trying to pull her out of a meeting right now. But given the invasion this morning, it doesn’t look good.”

“Invasion?”

She looks at me shrewdly. “Yes. Dimokratía landers have dropped infiltration drones across the lake crossing through Patagonia.”

I recognize this officer, a woman with hair dyed a richbrown red. Her tag says Sharma. She gestures toward my violin. “In any case, the Dimokratía guards don’t have a problem with that being on board, as long as we allow them to examine it first. I’ll get that process started.”

I look at the ship, and the tense soldiers from two countries at war. I’m never getting on this ship.

I shoot for second best. “Can I at least check out the rest of the operation here? Even if I don’t get on theCoordinated Endeavoritself, it will help me be a little more at peace about what’s happening.”

Sharma nods. “I don’t see why not, so long as I’m with you.”

“We won’t need special access?”

“You’ve already got it, to be here in the hangar. We can move freely within a zone of similar clearance.”

I place my violin case on the security table, then open it to take one last look at it. We spent many years together, that instrument and me. It was Minerva’s at first, but she quit after a year and so it became mine. Vivaldi to Mozart to Mendelssohn to Suarez. My fingers are calloused from my hours of moody vibrato. I latch the case closed and watch Sharma transfer it to the Dimokratía officers. They mount a few stairs, then disappear into theAurora.

“Thanks for helping get it on board,” I say to Sharma.

“No guarantees, but it looks likely it will pass Dimokratía inspection. Are you ready?”

I make myself look exasperated. “It’s fine by me if they want their Dimokratía guest to come with us, too.”

We head off into the spaceport, tailed by one of the Dimokratía soldiers. I wave and smile at him, but he just broods back. I didn’t know that someone could brood actively until now.

“This hangar has been locked down for months, limited to the highest clearances,” Sharma explains. “We’ve all been sleeping and working here.”

“You must miss your family,” I say.

She shrugs, even as she smiles wanly. “Accepting this assignment got them out of Melbourne and onto the Telos satellite. It was an easy choice.”

Sharma stops in a makeshift lobby area, where two Dimokratía guards are flanking another special guest. One I happen to have recently met.

“Ambrose Cusk,” Sharma says, “I’m not sure if you’re already familiar with Devon Mujaba?”

Devon grins broadly and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ambrose. It’s an honor.” The smile drops. “I’m very sorry to hear about your sister.”

I shake his hand, remembering where else it has been recently. “Thanks for your kind words,” I say formally. “It’s an honor to meet you, too.”

“That’s so nice to hear,” Devon says coolly.

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