CHAPTER
1
2471:333
“The answer is no, Lyra.” My mother utters her favorite—I swear—phrase.
“But—”
“End of discussion.”
Arguing is usually futile. But I’m not about to give up. Not this time.
We are having dinner in our housing unit. I’m picking at my reconstituted mashed potatoes, wilted broccoli and mystery protein…er…meat…while my dad scans his list of packing supplies on his portable, only halflistening to my mother’s efforts to convince me that traveling to the new planet will be a grand adventure.
“Besides,” Mom says, almost breathless. “We’ll be the first archaeologists to assess the discovery. This new site on Planet Yulin has the potential to explain who transported the Terracotta Warriors to twenty-two different planets. We’re getting close to an answer.”
I gotta admit, my parents are the experts with a capital E on the life-sized Warriors. It’s why they’ve been asked to relocate to the new planet. As for finding an answer to one of the Galaxy’s great mysteries, I’m not as confident.
“Think about it, Lyra,” Mom continues. “Over two million Warriors were custom-made on Earth by ancient Chinese craftsmen and transported by an unknown alien race to other worlds. We’re bound to find evidence of who they were—or are—and why they used Earth’s clay and people to create the Warriors. Why not make their own?”
Dad looks up. “The clay’s from Earth, but there’s no evidence they were made on Earth.”
“The Chinese calligraphy on them is all the evidence you need,” Mom retorts and they launch into an all-too-familiar debate.
I tune them out. Too bad the archaeologists don’t know why the aliens needed all those Warriors throughout the Galaxy. Since we’ve yet to discover any other alien artifacts or sentient beings, we don’t have anyone to ask.
And this recent discovery is all the way out on the edge of Explored Space. Yeah, you gotta say it with those capital letters since it’s such a big deal that we’ve traveled so far from Earth. But what really boggles the mind is we’re still in the Milky Way Galaxy. Space is big. Really big.
When my parents finish, it’s my turn. I ensure they are both paying attention by clearing my throat. Loudly.
In a reasonable tone, I say, “It’s exciting that you have a new site to research. You’ll have all the top scientists eager to explore with you so you don’t need me. I can remain here while you travel to Yulin. After all, I’m seventeen Actual years old—only a mere A-year until I’m of legal age.”
Mom bangs her fork on the table. “I said end—”
I keep right on going. “Staying on planet Xinji, I’ll be closer to the university—onsite learning is much more effective than distance. Dr. Wendland’s research on learning strategies has proven it. And Lan’s parents have already agreed to let me stay with them.”
Mom and Dad exchange a look, which means they are doing that silent communication thing that parents do. I study them while I wait, sitting on the edge of my seat and resisting the urge to jiggle my leg with nervous energy.
My dad runs a big hand through his short sandy-brown hair, making it stick up at various angles. He normally appears younger than his forty-six A-years, but a sadness pulls on his face, aging him. “We’re going to lose her in a couple A-years anyway, maybe we should consider her—”
“Absolutely not.” Mom’s brown-eyed gaze focuses on my father with such intensity, I’m surprised he doesn’t burst into flames. Even though she is younger than my father by two A-years, my mother is in charge of our family. “I can’t…not so soon after…Phoenix.”
Before you ask, yes, my parents named me and my brother after constellations. Kinda funny considering we can’t see either of those constellations unless we’re on Earth, which, by the way, neither of us was born on. My parents have some really strange ideas at times.
The mention of Phoenix effectively kills any support I might have gotten from my father. He ducks his head and I wilt.
“Don’t ask again,” Mom says in the I’ve-decided-and-nothing-will-change-my-mind tone.
It’s not fair, but arguing is pointless and will result in me cataloging thousands of broken Warrior shards as punishment. Appetite ruined, I push my now cold food away and head to my bedroom.
“Li—” my father calls after me.
I keep going. Our unit is small and narrow with a kitchen, common room, two bedrooms and the washroom. Not much space is allocated for housing in the base. The majority of the place is occupied by the scientists’ labs, which is where most of the people living here spend all of their time anyway. We aren’t a colony, but a research facility charged with assessing the entire planet. The base is filled with chemists, biologists, geologists, physicists, astrophysicists, meteorologists… Pick any “ologist” you can think of and they’re probably here, including archaeologists like my parents.
And those ologists have been drooling happy since the announcement of the New Discovery. As for me? Not so much. While they’ve been talking in excited, high-pitched voices and making plans for the trip, I’ve been dreading launch day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad for my parents. They’ve dedicated their lives to puzzling out this great Warrior mystery and I’ve no doubt that they’ll eventually solve it.
Well…maybe a little doubt.
However, I’m tired of leaving my friends behind and I need to find my own passion. Not sure what that is yet, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include researching ancient artifacts.
* * *
My room consists of a narrow bed, a few drawers, a desk, a chair, a screen and a terminal to access the Quantum net…well, a fraction of it—it’s like being confined to the shallow end of the pool—very frustrating.
When the Quantum net—Q-net—was invented back in 2066, it changed everything. Earth’s technology advanced at a sizzling pace, and inventions like the Crinkler engine, which allows us to travel through space super fast, were designed using the Q-net. Now it’s used to keep track of…well, everything, but it’s most important for knowing the precise location (and time) of all the space ships. Oh, and all the information collected from all the planets is stored within its amazing vastness.
But admittance to this scientific wonder is limited. Since I’m underage, I’m allowed to access the school programs, game programs, entertainment, and communications. At least the Q-net is able to send text-based communications between planets in Actual time. Can you imagine waiting decades for a reply?
I flop onto my bed and stare at the images of my friends from the other planets my parents dragged me to before Xinji. They fill the screen. The reality of space travel—the dreaded time dilation—stares back at me. Many of my friends have died of old age by now, and my two friends from our last assignment on Planet Wu’an are now in their fifties. Thanks, Einstein.
A musical ping sounds. The images fade into the background as the screen displays an incoming communication from a Miss Lan Maddrey.
“Accept,” I say.
The words disappear and my best friend’s face appears.