This will be my second funeral—I was too young when we left Ulanqab. If only the explorers would stop exploring. Each time they—the Department of Explored Space (DES), which was formed when interstellar travel became possible—expand the edges of Explored Space, they discover yet another exoplanet with Terracotta Warriors, which wreaks havoc on my social life. Overall, I know it’s a good thing. They also find exoplanets without Warriors that are potential candidates for colonization. Earthlings and their drive to seek new worlds for their ever-growing population... plus the constant need for resources because Earth is tapped out.
It’s just hard to adapt. There are plenty of people out there who relish the adventure of being time travelers, but I’m not one. Or I don’t think I am. I’ve never been given a choice and that sucks the most. I’ve no living aunts or uncles or grandparents. There’s a couple of my fourth or fifth cousins living on a colony on Planet Beta, but I’ll never meet them. Phoenix is a memory. He wouldn’t let me come to his funeral. We both knew I’d sob through it and unhinge his efforts to remain stoic. Leaving us cost him just as much as it hurt us.
Heck, it takes a toll from everyone, and our idea of family and our traditions is just not the same as those who stay in one place their entire lives. We are Earthlings, but we have no emotional connection to our ancestors or cultural traditions. Instead, we have our own warped research base traditions like the annual desk chair race and landing day celebrations.
I carry a bag through the narrow and featureless corridors of Xinji’s Central Base. It’s basically a giant rectangle. It resembles Wu’an’s base, which resembles Ulanqab’s, which resembles Taishan’s. You get the idea— one size fits all. I was born on Planet Ulanqab and my brother on Taishan. A tightness circles my chest. Will Phoenix think of me when he gazes up at the stars when he reaches Earth?
The soch-area is filled with bright colors, soft pillows, big couches, thick carpets, entertainment cubbies, screens on the walls, the clean scent of baby powder and a couple facilitators—a.k.a. babysitters—who ensure we all play nice. All residents under the Actual age of eighteen are required to spend the same two hours a day in here. Most of the younger kids stay much longer, but those of us sixteen and older prefer to hang out in other locations. Like the kissing zone. I smile when I spot Lan standing close to Jarren. Belle is staring at Jarren as if she’d like to strangle him, her face almost the same color as her bright red hair. Knowing Jarren, he probably deserves it. He’s gotten into more trouble than the rest of us combined.
With a tilt of her head, Lan indicates the back game room. All the kids know that room is for the older teens for the next two hours. After that, anyone can use it. I follow Belle inside. Cyril is already there. He’s all legs as he lounges in an armchair and his black hair is buzzed short. Jarren and Lan come in soon after. That’s it for our age group. A grand total of five.
Lan shuts the door. Privacy is an illusion and we all instinctively glance at the cameras. The babysitters can watch us, but not hear us.
“Relax,” Jarren says with a smirk. He flips his shaggy brown hair from his forehead, revealing his light brown eyes. “I’ve been taught by the best.”
Jarren can’t let an opportunity go by without gushing over his friend, Warrick Nolt, who Jarren learned all his worming tricks from back when they were on Planet Kaiping together. We all give him an exasperated look.
“Don’t worry. The babysitters are watching our required soch-time from twenty-one days ago,” he says.
Ah, that explains why he’d messaged us with instructions on what to wear today and for Cyril’s recent haircut. Not that we had a ton of clothing options— mostly just hand-me-down jeans, sweatshirts, T-shirts, and sweaters—it’s cold on Xinji. But anything is better than the nerdy jumpsuits and lab coats the adults wear. I tug my black sweater over my waist. The color is fitting for the occasion.
Lan takes up position in front of the large screen we use for gaming—all Q-net activities must be visible during soch-time so the babysitters know we’re socializing and not ignoring each other. The others sit in chairs, facing her. I have the position of honor and settle into the oversized armchair next to Lan. Setting my bag down on the floor near my feet, I try to relax.
As my best friend, she is in charge of my funeral. “We are gathered here today to remember our friend Lyra Tian Daniels.”
Before you ask, Tian means “sky” in Chinese.
“When I first met Lyra, I hated her.”
I glance at her. This is new.
Lan flashes me a smile. “When I arrived here from Planet Heshan, I thought she was perfect. With her glossy black hair that didn’t have a hint of frizz, no pimples and hazel eyes, I called her the Warrior Princess since she resembled the Chinese Warriors.”
Over the years, lots of people have commented on how much I look like my mother. When they mistake us for sisters, Mom preens and is quite obnoxious about it.
“I despised her on sight,” Lan continues.
Interesting. I’d no idea.
“Then I made the mistake of talking to her.” Lan sighs dramatically. “And it was impossible to hate her. She went out of her way to help others and she also had the audacity to prove that she wasn’t perfect. Oh no, she was far from it.”
“Thanks,” I say with plenty of sarcasm.
“Hush,” Lan scolds. “You’re not allowed to talk.” She taps a long finger on her cheek. “Where was I?”
“Not perfect,” Jarren says helpfully.
“Right. Along with her delusion that Diamond Rockler would pick her over me to marry, Lyra has a number of faults. Remember the time we all had to clean out the lavatories for seven days because Lyra wormed into the base’s security?”
I bite down on a protest. The roasting has begun and the roastee—me—must endure it in silence.
Lan continues with her eulogy of my misdeeds. “… adhesive everywhere, took poor Lucas hours to get free. Then she wormed the doors and lights of the soch-area and all our babysitters thought the place was haunted.”
Jarren laughs. “That was classic.”
“Despite her propensity for practical jokes, she was a perfect friend and I’m gonna miss her very much.” Lan sniffs and digs in her pocket for a tissue.
Pressure builds behind my eyes and my throat tightens. I’m gonna miss her more.
“Would anyone else like to speak?” Lan asks.
Jarren hops to his feet and shoots me a sly smile. “I’ve a confession. While Lyra has proven herself to be rather adept at worming, she didn’t breach the base’s security systems so we could sneak outside. That was me, but I had so many demerits at that time—”
“You still have them,” Belle mutters.
He flashes her a grin. “I gotta maintain my reputation. However, one more demerit would have sent me to detention for seven days. And we all know how horrible it is to be locked up in a white room that long.” At everyone’s blank looks, Jarren says, “Nobody? Really?” He sighs. “Trust me, it’s terrible, so I’m eternally grateful that Lyra took the blame for the worm. She was good that way.”
We share a sad smile. Nice of him to fess up. I swipe my eyes. He taught me a great deal about worming in the Q-net, and most of my pranks were to impress him.