Page 43 of The Arrival
“Preservation mode, auto on…”
Laidra’s voice darkens in slow motion, cryptically, like an overused toy where the battery finally dies. Pax turns and meets my gaze, but we say nothing. The weight of the situation is heavy, like a thick fog of dread. Eventually, I exhale a sigh, folding my arms as we float aimlessly in the hyper-tube.
I smirk. “We’re not dead?”
Pax looks forward, into the white-blue-silver nothingness. “Yet.”
“Lucky for us the Beneians don’t travel through hyperspace, ay? How much worse would it be if they were in here and still firing at us?” There’s a long pause where Pax doesn’t say anything, so I lean over and nudge their arm with my elbow. “I said, ‘Ay?’”
They slap my arm away. “You’re the worst.”
“Some say I’m the best?”
“But they don’t know the whole of it, do they? The best and the worst. Gifted and cursed because you’re stubborn as hell. Friend and foe.”
I refold my arms. “Foe? Nah, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“The Beneians would.”
Biting my bottom lip, I frown. Pax has a point there.
We sit in silence and I look around, taking a moment to truly marvel at this hyper-tube—this ghost-like phenomenon of energy, particles and outer space. I never stop to admire it because we’re always just, well… passing through. Busy and on some mission or another.
We travel through these entities all the time when they show up on our main ship’s navigation sensors. They serve as a quick passage way to galaxies light-years away from ours—places we’d otherwise never visit or trade with because of the distance. After a century of study, we can predict where tubes might pop up, how long they’ll linger and where they might lead. They typically remain in space like a swirling portal of light for three to ten days. This particular tube averages about five days.
Unfortunately, we don’t know what happens when a tube degenerates. We also have no clue what happens to anything inside of it when that occurs. Our mission to Benei ran a little long, so as it happens, we’re floating in a dead ship within a fleeting hyper-tube on day four of its maturation.
Not ideal.
Rolling my shoulders against my seat, I inhale deep, then exhale. The weighted ache that constantly resides within me is flaring up again. If I’m preoccupied (with, for instance, outrunning a royal task-force’s onslaught of space lasers), it’s an invisible thing that I barely notice. But when I’m still like this, the ache pulses inside of me and refuses to be ignored.
“Despite everything, I suppose… it’s been nice working with you, Jude.”
I smirk, thankful for the distraction. “Don’t do this. You always do this.”
“You know what I’ll regret this time?”
“Here we go.”
“That I never told Kailani how I feel about her. I don’t think she’s into me romantically, but I could have at least tried.” When I don’t say anything, Pax looks at me. “What?”
“You’re pathetic.”
Pax shifts their gaze forward once more. “That’s not very nice. I’m about to die and that’s the last thing you say to me?”
“You are not about to die. And your regrets are always centered around Kailani. When we got trapped in that cave six years ago on Escobar, your one regret was that you never tried talking to Kailani. Then on Crêta Dyiiad, when you got bit by that poisonous bug thing that you thought looked like a butterfly—”
“It was an aerclaya. It was green and had tiny blue glittering jewels at the bottom tips of its wings. So pretty but so, so horrific…”
“Right. When you were vomiting up black stuff and sweating in the infirmary, your one regret was that you never asked her to spend time with you outside of your shifts. That was two years ago. Why does it take a near-death experience for your relationship with Kailani to advance? I’m not giving you a big pep talk this time. Forget it.”
Pax is a lovely person. I mean that. Their hair is short but thick and wavy in this bluish-gray-brown color. It’s hard to describe but it’s fantastic. The blue is prominent because Pax’s skin is a very pale shade of cerulean, but their golden eyes bring a comforting warmth to the whole operation. An amber fire burning in a wintery, snow-laden field.
The humanoids on Pax’s planet are all agender in a sense—at least, that’s how they describe themselves. The alliance calls them nonbinary.
Almost all of us come from different planets and civilizations on our flagship, and we’re there because we have one mammoth thing in common. Welikeengaging with beings from different planets and cultures. We thrive on diversity and we’re open-minded and curious. Accepting and encouraging. We’re not like a lot of creatures who are still land-bound—only accustomed to specific types of people, rules or ways of existing.
What I’m saying is, there’s no reason for Pax to be so insecure about Kailani. Our ship—our organization—should be a safe space.
