Authors: Aubrie Dionne
“My kids ain’t slave labor.”
“They won’t be. There will be schools as soon as we line up teachers. There will be food. Water. Fresh air.”
The old woman huffed and scrunched up her face like a raisin. Aries bit her lip. What if she didn’t believe them? What if she kept all the children here to live in the garbage? Striker just might take them by force.
Trailing the tattered shawls she wore, the old woman disappeared back into the darkness of the orphanage and Striker’s shoulders slumped.
Reckon shouted from behind them, “Stupid old hag, doesn’t know what’s good for her.”
Suddenly, the children’s cries ceased. The doors screeched and parted again, revealing rows of beds with children of all ages huddled in groups of three and four. The old woman reemerged in the threshold and jabbed a thumb behind her. “Which one do you want to take with ya?”
Striker smiled, the first unreserved smile Aries had seen since they’d left the
New Dawn
. “All of them.”
Aries belted the last of the orphans into her seat on the ship, a girl with round, blue eyes, who clutched a doll with no head. Aries felt an urge to walk back to the stand in the street and buy a porcelain head to match, but Outpost Omega verged on social collapse. The sooner they left, the safer they’d all be.
“You stay here, okay? We’re going to take you home.”
The girl nodded her head, dirty curls bobbing up and down, and settled into the seat.
“I’ll stay with them, young lady.”
Aries turned. Striker’s father leaned on the threshold with a pack of recycled food in each hand. Sadness tinged the corners of his eyes, but hope dwelt there as well.
“You sure?” Aries didn’t want to make him babysit children that weren’t his when he hadn’t seen his son in over five years.
He nodded. “Go see Striker. You two need to talk.”
Aries smoothed the little girl’s hair and kissed her cheek before rising to confront yet another problem. All she wanted to do was avoid the fact she’d caused Striker’s grief.
“He’s too busy preparing for launch, and he’s still mourning the loss of two crew members. It’s not the right time.”
“It’s the perfect time. He needs to get over it to get on with his life.”
Striker’s father gave her a look that said he’d known his son all his life and knew what worked best for him. Aries pursed her lips, considering his request. Perhaps he did know best.
“Okay. You may be right. Guess I’ll find out.”
He squeezed Aries’ shoulder encouragingly as she passed. “If anyone knows what to say to snap him out of it, you do.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Aries found Striker in the ship’s belly, looking over the eggs. He looked more vulnerable than they did, his shell already cracked.
“You did it. You’re going to get to set them free.”
Striker’s gaze snapped up from the glass casings. He half-smiled at Aries. “At least they’ll have a chance.”
Aries walked beside him. His hand rested protectively on the glass and she put her hand over his. “Thank you for coming back for me. I know it came at a high cost.”
Striker looked away. “If only I could have saved Loot and Tiff as well.”
Aries took in a deep breath and collected her thoughts. She’d been through so much. Traveling to hell and back again had taught her that making choices was an integral part of life. “All I ever wanted was freedom of choice, to choose my husband, my job, my destiny. Loot and Tiff chose theirs. Reckon told me they asked to come with you onto the
New Dawn
, and you said Loot wanted to stay on the
New Dawn
. You can’t beat yourself up over their choices. You can only make your own.”
Striker nodded. “I know you’re right. Logically I know it. I just needed to hear someone else say it.” His gaze came back to her. “What about you, Aries? Did you get what you wanted? What are you going to choose next?”
She locked eyes with his, her gaze unwavering. “I choose to take care of the children we’ve adopted and to watch over an alien race’s eggs. I choose to live my life on Refuge. Most of all, I choose you.”
She waited for his response, her face only inches away from his, her hand growing hot as it rested on his. Striker’s eyes were so bright, they reminded her of the forests of old Earth. She held her breath as he leaned down and whispered, “Aries, I choose you, too.”
She closed the distance, putting her other hand on his cheek and pulling his head down to meet hers. All of those days apart from him melted away. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, she felt as though all of the pieces of her life fit together. She’d found her true destiny.
…
“There it is!”
A sphere of green and blue filled the main sight panel like an embodiment of hope. Aries heart fluttered. She’d have to get used to experiencing happiness. Every time the buoyant feeling hit her, it encompassed her whole being with such fierce elation, she felt dizzy.
“Now, let’s find a landing spot.” Striker’s fingers glided over the panels as he directed the
SP Nautilus
toward Refuge. Reckon sat in the coral indent by his side. “How about here? It looks long enough.”
Striker looked down at the coordinates and brought up the location on the main screen. A stretch of grassland with bell-shaped flowers and tiny, whizzing insects came up. Aries couldn’t believe they flew so close to paradise.
“Big enough, yes. It’s going to be bumpy.” Striker turned his head to look at Aries.
Aries thought back to her first landing in the escape pod. So much had changed since then. She’d been a ball of nerves, filled with desperation, anxiety and resentment. Now she was about to do the job she’d always wanted, living on a paradise planet she thought she’d never see, side by side with the man she loved. Her heart swelled so full of ecstasy, she thought it would fly out of her mouth and burst like a balloon in the air. She wanted to rush over and kiss every part of his face. Instead, she gave him a sly smile. “Go ahead. I’ve had worse landings.”
The nose of the ship dived and she felt her stomach lurch, her last meal with the reprocessed food in James’ room coming back to haunt her. Holding on to the slick white coral seat, she hoped all of the orphans were buckled in where she’d left them five minutes ago. At least Striker’s dad had volunteered to watch over them.
Reckon looked like he wore a mask. The force pulled back his weathered skin and his cheeks wrinkled up on either side of his face. “So, Striker, have you ever landed this thing?”
“On a planet with gravity? No.”
“Great.”
As they laughed, Aries caught Striker’s gaze. He mouthed the words, “I love you.”
The ship pitched downward. It shook so hard Aries feared the coral would shatter, but all she could think about were Striker’s words. She couldn’t believe he’d chosen that particular moment to tell her his true feelings.
Her stomach flipped and her heart pounded as the ship broke free of the atmosphere and soared above green treetops and glistening blue expanses. The engines slowed, and the buzz in her ears lessened as Striker ran the wire tips along the panels to angle the wings. They rode into a wind so strong it roared like a tempest around them, the wings pushing against the gusts to slow the ship down.
“Here it is. The fields are in sight!” Reckon shouted.
“I got it. I got it.” Striker reversed the engines.
“Can’t you slow it down any more?” Reckon’s voice shook.
“Nope. This is how we have to go.”
The land came up faster than Aries thought it would, and she braced herself for impact.
Everything in the main control deck rattled like the ship was falling apart around them. Aries held on so tight her fingers lost color and went numb. The bottom of the ship hit and the vessel toppled over, sand and grass collecting on the sight panel as it plowed into a hill.
The force threw everyone forward into the makeshift seatbelts they’d fashioned out of the laser gun straps. The leather pressed against Aries’ chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs.
Silence stung her ears. She couldn’t tell if the loud noises of the landing had damaged her hearing, or if nothing made a sound. She felt like a rag in one of the tumbler machines on the
New Dawn
, tossed around at high speed. Her insides bubbled and she fought back dizziness. A moan cut through the silence and she saw Reckon squirming out from behind the strap of his chair.
Aries pulled herself up and rushed to his side, worried that he’d broken his old, frail bones. “Are you okay?”
Reckon winced as he touched his side. “A little bruised, but I think I’m okay.”
Striker’s chair lay empty, his seatbelt ripped in two pieces.
“Where’s Striker?” Aries looked around and saw his boots sticking out from behind the controls. “Striker!” She threw herself across the deck. He lay on his back, his eyes closed.
She ran her hands through his hair and along his body, searching for a wound, but couldn’t find any broken bones, although she had little medical training. She shook him, feeling as though her heart refused to beat. “Striker, wake up.”
His eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Aries as she cupped his head in her hands and smiled. She pressed her lips to his, feeling the warmth of his lips. Her mouth traveled along his jaw, spreading kisses until she reached his ear and whispered, “I love you, too.”
…
A gentle sun warmed her back as Aries stepped onto the meadowland of Refuge. Dust-sized insects blew by on a mild breeze as she took in a deep breath of fresh, unpolluted air. The dove-white grass looked as slender as hair strands and as soft as a whispering wind, with wisps of seeds reaching up to the pale blue sky. Aries stepped forward and the strands brushed up against her pant legs like worshipers reaching for their god. All at once she felt as though she belonged to this world, as if it had beckoned to her in her earliest dreams. All her life, Aries had thought she’d longed for old Earth, but it had been Refuge calling her instead.
Aries had each orphan who was strong enough carry out one of the precious alien eggs. They placed them in the rays of the golden sun, nestled in the long stems of grass.
As the first volunteers journeyed out to search for water, food and a place to build shelter, Aries stayed behind, tending to the eggs. Like she’d watched the aliens do in the video, she smoothed her hands over the tops, dusting off the cosmic particles possibly built up over hundreds of years. As the afternoon wore on, the rays of the sun grew stronger, and she could almost see the tiny bodies inside if she held the shells up to the light.
“No luck yet?” Striker walked up with a bottle of water and an armful of purple fruits shaped like pears.
“No.” Aries accepted the water and gulped it down.
“That’s from here, you know.” Striker boasted as if he’d made it himself. “The kids found a lake past the meadow, and they found these growing on trees.”
He handed her a purple fruit. “We think it’s edible because we saw one of the bird-like reptiles chomping on it. What does my favorite biologist think?” Aries brought out a knife and cut through the thick skin. The inside felt like the creamy texture of an avocado. “You’re sure you saw birds eating it?”
“Something like birds, but not quite.”
She cut a piece and smoothed it between her fingers. “I’ll run some tests. If it’s edible, let’s call it a pearvacado.”
Striker laughed. “Whatever you want. We’ll set up camp, explore the region, and once we find the most suitable place to establish a colony we’ll name it Aries, after you.”
“What a silly name for a colony!” Aries tried to think of a better suggestion when she saw a crack in one of the eggs. “Oh no! Look, this one is damaged.” How had she not seen it before? She ran over to it and traced the crack with her fingertip.
Striker joined her, kneeling by her side. “It can’t be. The kids were so careful bringing them out.”
“Maybe the landing damaged it?”
Aries glanced at the others. Cracks ran down the length of each egg near her. She panicked, feeling like she’d failed, until she heard a sound from behind her, a light cooing like a morning dove.
Striker walked toward the noise and bent down, scooping something up from the ground. He turned back to her, with his arms full, cradling a small body with ivory skin and glimmering wings.
Around her, winged creatures shot up in the sky like fireworks set off by the blazing sun. They spiraled and dove over her head, gliding and dancing in the air. Filled with pure joy, Aries lifted both arms up to the sky and smiled. The being in Striker’s arms joined the others in the sky. Striker ran over to Aries and picked her up, twirling her around in the sea of broken shells. She had never felt more loved or more free.
I’d like to thank my agent, Dawn Dowdle, for believing in my manuscript and finding such a wonderful publishing company. Also, Liz Pelletier and Heather Howland at Entangled Publishing, for being so excited about Paradise 21. Thank you to Caroline Phipps, my editor who worked so hard to get this manuscript polished and find even greater meaning in each conversation and scene. My beta readers come next: the best sister in the world, Brianne Dionne, and my mom, for giving me support and intriguing insights. My awesome critique partners deserve numerous thank yous: Cherie Reich, Theresa Milstein, Lisa Rusczyk, Kathleen S. Allen, Lindsey Duncan, and Cher Green. And lastly, my husband, Chris, for allowing me the time I needed to work on edits, do research, and most of all, write.