In the Quick Read online

  Then Simon’s hands were on my shoulders, turning me slowly but firmly upright. My feet touched the bottom again, and I had an overwhelming urge to push myself up, up, as fast as possible to the surface. But I didn’t do it. I slowed my breath. All around me kids were still collecting rings; the group at the box had successfully untied it and were dragging it across the pool floor. One of the divers with the box was Nico.

  Simon made a hand signal to ask me if I wanted to start our ascent, and I signaled no. Nico and everyone else had been down here for at least forty minutes, and I’d managed only five. I slackened my breath more, emptied my lungs, and slowly filled them. I watched Nico. I wouldn’t start my ascent until he did. His group pushed and pulled the box to the other end of the pool and secured it with another set of ropes. Then they turned and swam back to the center. I waited until his group clustered together, dropped weight, and started their ascent. Then I signaled to Simon and we dropped weight too, and slowly—by fractions of an inch at a time—we began to rise.

  14

  Our cafeteria was in a building with gray concrete floors and long yellow tables. Sometimes there was decent food, and sometimes there wasn’t. At lunchtime after my first session at the dive pool the grilled cheese sandwiches were burnt, and only the baked potatoes were edible. I stood in line. Water was trapped in my right ear; I shook my head to the right trying to dislodge it, and then to the left.

  At least a hundred kids packed the room. Their voices were a great murmur behind me, and their clacking utensils echoed against the walls. After I got my potato I walked to the table where Carla and Lion and Nico were sitting, along with some other kids I didn’t know. I hovered behind Lion. There weren’t enough tables. Everyone was already squeezed together on the bench, and I hesitated, holding my tray tightly in my two hands. Then Lion pushed in and everyone groaned. But I was so grateful to sit down I didn’t care.

  People were complaining about the potatoes. I cut mine open and it steamed. At home my aunt put bits of bacon on top of our potatoes. I didn’t have any bacon now, but there was butter. I put a small pat on top and watched it melt.

  I wish this was a sandwich, Nico said.

  Across the table Carla hadn’t touched her food; she was writing on her notepad. Lion was trying to talk to her about going to the airfields on Saturday to watch the test rockets take off. It’s an hour walk, tops, he said.

  I’d like to go, I said.

  I just want to get out of here for a few hours, Lion said. What’s wrong with that?

  It’ll be freezing, Carla said. We should use that time to work on the hand.

  A TV bolted to the wall played a news channel. The woman on the screen began talking about Inquiry and everyone at the table turned to the TV and went quiet, and the wind buffeted the walls of the building with a tunk tunk, tunk tunk. The explorer had been dark for three weeks, the woman said, with no communication from the crew and no definitive proof they were still alive. A task force had been formed by NSP to investigate what happened but they had not yet reported their findings. Then the screen split in half and James Banovic’s face appeared. His hair was shorter, his angular face thinner, but other than that he looked the same.

  Can you tell us now if a rescue mission is planned and who will crew it? the woman asked him.

  A rescue mission would be led by four of NSP’s most talented astronauts.

  And this mission would utilize NSP’s second explorer, Endurance.

  Correct.

  Which means launching not from Earth but from the Pink Planet—

  All future explorer missions will take advantage of the optimal launch windows on the Pink Planet.

  Is Endurance ready?

  It is.

  And when will the task force make their decision?

  His eyes shifted slightly. Soon.

  Isn’t it true that you yourself were slated to lead the second explorer mission and would be the logical choice to command the rescue?

  I can’t comment beyond saying there are at least three teams qualified to man Endurance and that yes, one of the teams is mine—

  Do you think they’re still alive? a girl named Brianne asked.

  Who knows, Nico said. He stabbed his potato with a fork.

  Someone from Peter Reed is commander of that crew, another kid at the table said. He had hair that stuck up on one side and he was in Materials at the same time as us—his group was doing something with microscopes and adhesive tape.

  Anu, I said.

  A girl from math class, Netty, made a face. Not from the Trainee Group there isn’t. It’s a crew of four on Inquiry, she said. They clean their own toilets. They replace their own light bulbs.

  I didn’t understand what she meant.

  Brianne had eaten her whole potato, skin and all. If they aren’t dead already they will be soon, she said.

  They’re not! I said this loudly and Nico snorted.

  They’re stuck, Brianne said. They’re going in circles—she rotated her spoon slowly through the air—until they either freeze or starve to death.

  Carla’s sister’s going to be on the rescue crew, Lion interrupted. She’s going to be its pilot—

  We’re not supposed to talk about it, Carla said.

  Netty looked skeptical. Who’s your sister?

  Amelia Silva.

  I turned in my seat. Amelia Silva was my uncle’s student, one of the four who helped to develop the fuel cell. She’s your sister? I asked.

  You don’t have the same last name, Netty prompted.

  Half sister, Carla said.

  Netty sat back in her chair. If they think they’re dead already they’re not going to send a rescue crew.

  What do you know about it? Nico asked Netty. Your brother works on trash transport—

  So does yours!

  The bell rang and everyone got up from the table.

  My potato was still in front of me. It had gone cold. Do you think they’re going to die? I asked.

  Only Nico was left at the table to answer. They’re going to send Endurance after them.

  What happens if they don’t?

  If they’re smart enough to fix the problem, he said, they’ll live. If they aren’t they’ll die.

  They are smart enough.

  He picked up his tray. His potato skin was in shreds. I guess we’ll find out.

  * * *

  —

  During study period I looked for Carla and found her on her bed, reading a large textbook. She was wearing a thin T-shirt despite the drafty room, and large headphones over her ears. I had been working on my math equation. I motioned to her, and she glanced at the paper without taking off the headphones.

  This is the right answer. Did you copy it?

  I figured it out.

  You have to show your work.

  I did.

  She pulled her headphones off. There’s ten lines here.

  I found a faster way.

  She looked at me and frowned. Then she shrugged. Okay.

  Wind rattled the walls of the dormitory and little gusts of cold air came from the cracks and corners in the walls. I sat on my bed and wrapped my blanket around my shoulders.

  That girl at lunch said we’re being trained to clean toilets—

  I’m not cleaning any toilets.

  But what did she mean?

  Carla glanced at my paper one more time and then handed it back. There are two tracks at Peter Reed, she said. Trainee Group and Candidate Group. Candidate is better.

  And we’re in Trainee?

  I won’t be for long. We’re going to move up, the three of us. Lion and Nico and me. She held up her book, Physics Today and Tomorrow. I’m already auditing Candidate Group physics.

  We’re doing things I already know in physics, I said. Maybe I can switch to
o—

  They only let me sit in because we won the Materials competition last year, she said.

  Then I’m glad I’m on your team this year.

  She laughed. Then she looked doubtful. You have to pass a fitness test to get into Candidate Group. Most people stay in Trainee.

  What kind of fitness test?

  You don’t have anyone to talk to, do you?

  I did. My uncle. But he died.

  Her face softened a little. Your uncle who started this school.

  I nodded.

  My parents are dead too. But I have my brother—he’s in year six—and my sister.

  Amelia, I said. She used to come to my house. Does she teach here like Theresa?

  No. She’s in orbit.

  Do you get to talk to her?

  Sometimes. Not as much as I want.

  Is it true she’s going to pilot the rescue mission?

  Lion shouldn’t have said that—

  But she is, right?

  A strong buffet of wind hit the walls and I flinched.

  She shook her head. You’re too young to be here, you know. Who sent you?

  My aunt.

  Did she know what this place was like?

  I think so.

  Okay June, she said. I’m going back to my book. But you can sit with me if you want. If you stay quiet.

  But I had one more thing I wanted to say. Carla, about the hand—

  You’ve only just joined the group. No one expects anything.

  I do have an idea.

  And it will turn out to be an idea we’ve already had, she said.

  It has to do with— I hesitated, then reached across the space between our two beds and opened my palm —what a hand is.

  She looked at me.

  Take it, I said.

  She did and I squeezed. Do you know what I mean?

  She turned her head to one side; there was a strange expression on her face. Then she laughed and reached for her headphones. Did you do the extra equations for math? If you haven’t you should.

  I got my equations out, but I didn’t do them. I turned the piece of paper over and drew hands instead. I liked being close to Carla. I wanted to show her my drawings and to ask her what she thought. I wanted to try again to explain what was in my mind. But I didn’t. I stayed quiet because she asked me to.

  15

  Now that I knew about Candidate Group it was all I could think about. Carla and Lion and Nico had already passed the fitness test, but a girl whose bed was near mine told me she had failed it the first time around. She was allowed to take the test again after the holidays, but she was worried about the push-ups and sit-ups. She said she could run the ten miles and do the sixty-minute dive at the pool, but the other things she wasn’t so sure about.

  I could take the test then too, since I had arrived after the school year began. But I couldn’t do any of the things she mentioned. Maybe I could do the dive—I’d managed thirty minutes during my last session at the pool. But the ten miles? I could barely complete two at our morning fitness run.

  During the next free period I sought out Lion, who I’d seen running extra laps around the track in the yard during free period. I stood where I could see him go past. The cold pinched my fingers and toes, and I stomped my feet. Rockets sparked and fizzed overhead. I wanted to look at my book, which was about robotics, but I didn’t. I waited. Finally Lion appeared and I waved. He ran past me and then ran back.

  He stopped in front of me and put his hands on his thighs; his breath made clouds in the air.

  I said, I’m not going to pass the Candidate Group fitness test. I’m smaller than everyone else to begin with—

  Size isn’t what matters. It’s strength and endurance.

  We watched some kids run by, their sneakers crunching on the gravel. Lion leaned against the building and stretched his legs. Did you exercise before you came here? Train your body?

  I used to throw a stick for my dog Duster.

  I don’t think that counts.

  Can you help me?

  You’ll have to eat more.

  The food is bad—

  Yeah. It sucks. You have to choke it down.

  I said I’d try, and he said we could start in the morning but I’d have to get up before everyone else. That’s what he did, and I should too.

  * * *

  —

  The next day I woke before dawn. The huge room was hushed; all the other girls were still asleep, even Carla, with their blankets pulled up to their chins. The floor was freezing under my socked feet and I dressed quickly.

  I met Lion outside the girls’ dormitory under a sky that looked like snow. He laughed when he saw me. My coat was puffy with the layers I was wearing underneath—track pants (I’d traded for them with another girl the night before), a long-sleeved shirt, and a thick sweater.

  He was wearing thermal underwear under shorts, a hooded sweatshirt with the outline of a shark on it, and a pair of very clean white sneakers. His hands were buried deep in the pocket of his sweatshirt. At least take off the sweater, he said.

  I pulled off my sweater and he showed me how to stretch my legs, and I tried to move my body the way he did.

  No, your left foot. His breath made a cloud in front of his face. Bend it like this, over your right knee.

  I pushed my hair from my face and did what he said but it still wasn’t right.

  He showed me again.

  We did many more stretches, and I saw him suppress a smile when I lost my balance as I reached my arms behind my back like he did.

  Finally we were done. This early we can run on the Candidate track, Lion said, and started toward the second track I’d noticed my first morning at Peter Reed. We skirted the stretch of snowy field, and Lion sped up as soon as we reached the pavement—unlike our track it was fully cleared of snow.

  My feet smacked the pavement while Lion’s barely made any noise at all. Just a soft sup sup, sup sup. The cold air burned my throat. My feet felt heavy, irregular. I was already breathing hard.

  Up ahead another pair of runners came toward us through the frosty air—Theresa and James. They were wearing blue track pants and sweatshirts with the Explorer program insignia on the sleeves. I drew myself up, tried to get my breathing under control.

  Then they were right in front of us, the sound of their feet hitting the pavement steady and rhythmic. Theresa wore a blue fleece headband that covered her forehead and ears, and her ponytail streamed out behind her. The way she ran seemed to be all one fluid motion. James took up more space on the track than she did, and he had a long, lean, powerful stride. His cheeks were red from the cold and it reminded me of the day we stood in the field and watched Inquiry’s launch.

  They didn’t acknowledge us as they ran past. I tried to catch James’s eye—I wanted him to remember me. I wanted to ask him about the rescue mission. Lion shifted to the right, off the track to let them go by, and at the last second James turned his head. He had an intense way of looking at people, almost like his gaze was pinning you in place. A memory rose up in my mind—of him standing at my uncle’s door, a stack of handwritten computations in his hands. He’d looked at me the same way when I’d told him, My uncle’s not here.

  Then he had pushed the pages into my hands and said, Tell him I figured it out, okay?

  I’d brought the papers inside, sat down on the steps, and tried to read them. I stayed there studying them until the hallway turned dusky and my aunt’s paintings threw up strange shadows on the walls, until I managed to decipher the first half of the first page.

  I started jogging after James and Theresa. I don’t know exactly why, what I intended to do, but for about thirty seconds I matched their pace. My feet hit the ground hard and my arms pumped against my sides.

  Lion yelled, What ar
e you doing?

  Stop, I called after them, panting, and they slowed and turned around.

  I put my hands on my knees. I was breathing hard and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. But I forced myself to stand up straight.

  Where are you supposed to be? Theresa asked.

  There’s a problem with the cell, I said. Isn’t there? A degradation due to vibration.

  Theresa frowned but James looked at me with interest.

  Have you fixed it? I asked.

  James seemed like he might answer but Theresa spoke first. You know we can’t talk to you about that. You should head back to your dorm.

  Endurance and Inquiry are identical, I said. If there’s cell failure in one—

  Lion caught up to me then and pulled me off the track and away from James and Theresa. What were you saying to them? he asked.

  I know them.

  They’re in the middle of training. And we’re technically not supposed to be on this track.

  A few yards away Theresa bent down to stretch and when she stood up her headband slipped from her ears. James reached to push it back in place, leaning close, and for a moment he hugged her face with his two hands.

  I don’t want to run anymore, I said to Lion.

  All right. We’ll lift instead.

  I watched James’s and Theresa’s blue figures become smaller and smaller as they jogged away. I don’t want to do that either.

  Come on, he said. It’ll be fun.

  We walked back toward the dormitories and Lion waved me into a building with old glass windows covered in frost. The only light came from two yellow bulbs in the ceiling, and the air was filled with dust motes and smelled like rust and old socks. Gradually my eyes adjusted. The room was full of complicated machines with black metal weights that looked like wheels and thick, taut wires.

  Lion’s skin was darker in here than it was outside, and his eyes brighter. He showed me the machines crowding the room. Only a few steps separated them and it was a twisting maze to move from one to the next. A few pieces of equipment appeared new and had complex digital displays, but most of them were old.