Meridian

The Geminae hunted only by starlight, because the hard silver of their skin reflected the sky’s faint glow and turned them into ghosts. From a distance, they were barely wisps that floated gently above the horizon. But there was nothing gentle about the Geminae. By the time their padding footsteps were audible, it was too late. 

Everything was like that on Kyto: soft, ethereal, deadly. There was nowhere to hide. The planet’s surface was a flat, unbroken sheet of rock, and the sky stretched into infinity in every direction. It was so fast that when night fell, it was as though the stars had gathered the entire world in their embrace. The only way to follow a direct path was to follow the faint glow at the edge of the horizon. To chase the sun. 

Someday, Lai told us, we’d finally catch it. I didn’t believe him. 

The Meridian was getting closer each day. That’s what Lai said, at least. But we had been stranded on this desolate rock for three full sun cycles, and it certainly didn’t feel like we were making any progress. That glow was still just out of reach, tantalizingly close, but unmoving in its distance. 

Meanwhile, our food supply was dwindling. The fleet had been carrying enough for about two cycles between all the ships, and with the right rationing, it had been able to stretch thin across the whole group. But it wouldn’t last forever. Racia estimated that we had another half-cycle, at best. That was, if the Geminae didn't finish everyone first. 

It’s close, Lai said one night as a measly bag of benjin nuts changed hands by lantern light. The wind had picked up, and the stars were cold overhead. My flight suit was wearing thin enough that I could feel the chill in every part of my body. Everyone else felt the same, I could tell, huddled close to our solitary heat source. But Lai didn’t care. He stood a few paces away, staring off towards the horizon, one hand resting on the holstered weapon at his hip. The glow still hovered there, wavering slightly, but still in one place. 

Glances passed across the group. There were only fifteen now, down from the hundred and seventy-two that had made up the fleet originally. Pilots, medics, mechanics, scientists…so many hadn’t made it through the asteroid belt. Even fewer had survived when the damaged ships smashed against the impenetrable surface of Kyto, and fewer still had managed to avoid the Geminae. Those that remained were hollow-cheeked and worn thin, as if their very will to live was being polished away by the light sand that blew across the ground. They were slowly eroding. 

But Lai seemed to be immune to any weathering. His jaw was set as proud as ever, his shoulders held back, his dark eyes unflinching on the goal. His goal. 

The Meridian was everything to Lai. It was savior, protector, treasure, home. It was the answer. 

The sleeping pads were always circled around the lantern at night, facing outward in a spiral with heads nearest the warm glow and boots stretching into the dark. Ten slept, five stood watch; after three hours had passed, another five traded out, and three hours after that, the last five rose up. The watch circled the group, silent, eyes on the edges of the darkness, watching for ghosts. 

The night when the last bag of benjin nuts disappeared into aching stomachs, I laid on my mat and stared up at infinity above. The Meridian was a thin glow to the left of my vision, but the stars still shone as vibrantly as ever. Here, it was easy to lose myself. 

Racia rolled over on her mat next to me. Ameli, she said, whispering. Anxious. We only have provisions for another quarter cycle. What are we going to do? 

She said we, but she meant Lai. It was always Lai. Everyone was always following, because what else were they supposed to do? Was there a right path if there was not even a path to follow? 

I stayed silent, still staring at the stars. It had been so long since I had felt space around me, wide open space, the cool touch of infinity. Here, with my back on the hard ground, I felt trapped. There was nothing but open sky around me, and yet still my breath came short and fast most nights, claustrophobia pushing down on my lungs. I needed the stars. Just like they needed me. 

Down here? I was nothing. 

I never responded. Racia turned back over, and her breathing gradually slowed. Mine did not. 

Lai was still crouched, staring at the horizon, when I soundlessly rose from my pad and left the circle of lamplight. The other patrollers were spread on other sides of the circle, moving shadows in the gloom. I settled down on the ground next to him and crossed my legs beneath me. 

He didn’t break his staring contest with the glow. Do you ever sleep? he asked me. 

I studied his face, olive skin lit by stars and the edge of the world. His dark hair was longer now, after all these cycles, curling down over his collar and brushing his eyelashes. And his face was thinner, but not stripped of hope like the rest of ours. He still held that set jaw, the insufferable confidence that had once been the bane of my existence now the lifeline that his crewmates clung to. 

Do you? I replied.

He closed his eyes briefly. In a moment, his pain washed over me, the weight of the fleet on his broad shoulders, the haunting Geminae creeping closer each night, our rapidly vanishing provisions. His father. His fleet. Me. Me?

Then the eyes were open again, clear, fixed…on mine. I met his stare, and a jolt shot through me. He knew. He knew what had happened. He knew what I had done. 

We had made it halfway to our destination. It was my sleeping shift on board the Rossman, but as usual, I was wide awake, still behind my console in Analytics. My fingers flew over the control pad as I dug further and further into the database. There was something out there, I knew, and I didn’t know what, but my gut was screaming at me to keep going. It was lingering just beyond my field of vision, like a glow about to peek over the horizon. It called to me. 

Find anything interesting? 

I whirled around in my seat. Leaning in the doorway, his smirk as jaunty as ever, was Lai. He was a stereotype in motion, unimaginative, uncooperative, unmoving in his ignorance. 

Why are you always following me around? I snapped. You’ve got better things to do, I’m sure. 

He shrugged, his expression not even wavering a bit. I don’t know. You’re intriguing. Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now? 

Leave me alone, Lai. I turned back to my console, my face flushing. I was so tired of this. I was so tired of having to hide. I was so tired here, among the stars.

Come on, Ameli, he wheedled, crossing the deserted room to stand behind me and resting his hand on the back of my chair. I’m bored out of my mind. Just tell me what you’re working on. 

I slapped his hand off. Get out. I outrank you, so that’s an order. 

Pretty sure I’m not even an officer, he pointed out. So, you can’t actually order me around. 

Stars! I threw my hands up in disgust and whirled around. Have you ever been told no in your life? Why are you even on this trip, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in school?

Something flickered across his face, then disappeared. Hurt, maybe? Was that even possible? But as soon as it was there, it was gone, the smirk returning in full force. 

I finished at the Academy a year early, he told me, but Father wants me to get some real-life experience before I ship out. It’s a bit of an observation trip, I guess. He nodded at my console. To tell you the truth, I wish I’d gone into Analytics instead of leadership training. I’d much rather be doing what you are. 

Your secret passion is data. How charming. 

He grinned. Not so secret. You just never paid attention to me at the Academy. Too busy being all high-and-mighty with your academic pals. Top of your class, weren’t you? 

I was. But I’d paid a steep price for it. 

What are you so desperate to find out, then? I asked, recentering. If you’d rather sit behind a computer than follow in your dear father’s footsteps.

His expression finally did change, then. His lashes dipped and his dark eyes reflected a glow, something hidden beyond the horizon. 

The Meridian, he said. 

My heart dropped.

Just then, the ship rocked violently. I slipped off of my chair. Lai caught me by the shoulder and pulled me to my feet. I realized in a split second that I was pressed against his chest, but I didn’t have time to push him away before the floor shuddered violently below our feet and alarms began to scream overhead. 

Flight suits! I shouted at him, and he nodded. We sprinted for the door and burst into the hallway. There was no more animosity, just survival.

In the corridor lay chaos. Crewmembers were yelling at one another, pounding past us, some dressed for flight, some just stumbling out of their bunks. Lai reached the nearest closet before I did and tore it open, then tossed me a suit. I pulled it on and zipped up as he grabbed his own and did the same. The grey material molded to my skin in an instant, and I reached for a helmet, fastening the mag-strap and clicking the visor into place. Gloves snapped on, Lai and I took off for the crew hangar. 

When we came in view of the windows, I froze. 

The Rossman was the fleet’s lead ship. There were only seven in our fleet, but this one was by far the biggest. The Emissary was on board, as well as his staff, and the main Analytics and Charting staff. The other fleet members were mostly there to protect the Rossman, and so there were about a hundred people on board, and the other seventy or so were spread among the surrounding ships. 

Through the window, the fleet was burning. 

An asteroid field had appeared from nowhere in our path, and already, flaming wreckage was tumbling through the stars, headed towards a massive planet below us. It was a dusty orange, surrounded by a faintly purple glow. It was so vast that all I could see was the top part of it, the edges stretching down into infinity. It was endless.

The ship rocked again. More rocks were careening towards us, striking the Rossman’s body. O2-leak alarms began to wail even louder than the shield warnings. 

Lai grabbed my hand as we entered a crush of people, everyone heading for the hangar. I looked up at him, and our eyes locked behind our visors. 

And then I felt it. My stomach lurched, my heartbeat picked up, my breath came shorter. A rushing filled my head. I closed my eyes, and in the darkness, I had clarity. 

I pulled my hand out of Lai’s. His eyes widened, and he reached out as I turned away and sprinted down the corridor, back the way we came, into our crumbling ship. 

The control room was in the very heart of the ship. It was long abandoned. The crew were smart–they knew when to leave a losing battle. Everyone had sprinted for the hangars, and the dropships were the only way out now. 

Now, it was my only chance. 

My fingers flew across the keypad, touching levers, twisting knobs, moving faster than my mind. I didn’t know what I had to do, but I felt it. My eyes fluttered closed as I worked, and time faded to a dull blur. The walls creaked and groaned around me. The floor shifted beneath my boots. 

But then it appeared. A hologram, floating above the center console. 

Ameli. My aunt’s voice was scratchy, her image flickering as the connection wavered. Is the course set? 

Yes, Honor, I said. Kyto is directly below. The crew has enough fuel to land. 

Excellent, she replied. See that the journey is extended enough as not to attract attention. The boy will search. Keep him occupied. 

Yes, Honor. 

And Ameli. My aunt’s projection flickered again, but I could still make out the shine against her hard silver skin as she said, Be wise. 

The ceiling caved, and I ran. 

Lai and I did not speak for several minutes. But what was time except an illusion? I wavered in the cold stillness. His gaze did not. 

Still, the Meridian glowed.

When will they be here? he said finally. His voice was quiet. Too quiet. 

I didn’t speak. I hadn’t said much in the three cycles since our landing. I figured it was best. Words held too much power, too much meaning, especially to someone like Lai, with eyes that could see through walls. 

He turned away from me, back to the horizon. Back to his goal, back to his heart, back to the only thing that had ever kept him going. What did one do when their entire life was an illusion? 

I left him. I always left him.

The Geminae struck silently, at Midsky. No one screamed, no one ran, no one had any time. But what was time, except for an illusion to guide us through the stars? 

Lai was the last to fall. I watched him as the silver encased his body and he crumbled to dust in the faint glow of the Meridian. His eyes never stopped looking towards the horizon. Until the end, he searched. 

Poli’itin found me, crouched by the lantern. He towered above me for a moment before sinking to one knee. Young Honor, he rumbled. It is time. We must return home. 

I gazed up at the stars one last time. That was my true home, I knew, but I would never return there. I was lucky to have been given the chance to take my feet from the ground, since not many ever did. But greed gnawed hungrily in my stomach, and I longed to fly again. 

Tearing my eyes away, I nodded to the general, who dipped his silver head in return. He extended a hand and I let him pull me to my feet. 

The Pack gathered around us. They wavered in the darkness, bowing to me. Young Honor, they echoed. Your work is noble. You have returned. 

I acknowledged them in return, nodding. Then I turned to Poli’itin. What of my aunt?

Honor awaits at the Meridian was his response. 

The Meridian glowed silver. It burned, it wavered, it held firm. Our cities spread there, infinite in either direction, hidden in the brightness. 

In the palace, she awaited. 

Her back was to me in her chamber. I entered silently, and still she heard. Ameli. Your return is celebrated.

Honor, I murmured, bowing. What do you wish?

She turned. Her face was taller than the others, her figure more imposing. Power was won by those closest to the sky. I wish for you to learn, she said. I wish for you to succeed. I wish for you to build. 

So this would not be the last time. It was simply the beginning. 

I dropped to one knee. My service is yours. 

Ameli of Starlight, she said. The Geminae await your call. 

And she placed the crown upon my head.