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I pull my arms tighter about my body. “If you’ve fallen out of love, you should tell him. It’s only fair.”

Mom reaches out to tuck a sprig of hair behind my ear. “Oh my dear, how can one fall out of love if one never fell into it in the first place?”

I flinch but don’t look away. “You mean you never loved Dad at all? Not even in the beginning?”

“No, I’m afraid I never did.” Mom grabs the discarded stool and places it a few feet from me. She sits, her back very straight and her legs crossed at the ankles. “I was only seventeen, just your age, when my parents died. A horrible, slow, tortuous death from injuries, thirst, and starvation. I saw that holodisc, you know.”

“I know,” I whisper.

Mom tips up her chin, gazing over my head, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall. “I needed someone to hold me, to block out those images, to rock me to sleep at night. And there was your father. Such a good boy. So gentle and understanding. Your grandparents were kind as well. They took me in. They cared for me.”

She’s lost in her memories—wandering in the past, in a place of darkness that still shadows her face. I stare at the toes of my boots. Scuffed and cracked—I need to work some oil into the leather.

“Your father loved me. I knew that. I thought it would be enough—him loving me. I didn’t really feel anything, you understand. I just knew his arms kept me from flying apart and the pressure of his lips kept me from screaming … ” She shakes her head and drops her gaze. “Sorry. Too much information, I suspect.”

I’m chewing on my pinky nail. I pull my finger from my mouth and stare at my hand. “Why did you marry, then? I mean, you could’ve waited. Until you were older. Until you felt better.”

Mom smiles gently. “Well, then there was you, Ann.”

My fingers curl into my palm. “You were pregnant? But you had a bioplant, so how … ?”

“I didn’t have one. We didn’t all have them implanted young, back then. My parents didn’t think it was necessary. And it wasn’t … before.” She fingers her bracelet. “To be fair, when your grandparents realized, they didn’t pressure me. Said they’d help raise you regardless. I think they knew we were too young. Or maybe they realized I wasn’t in love with Jason—that I wasn’t capable of love. Not then.”

“But you married him anyway.”

“I did. You know why?” She cocks her head to the side and stares at me with bright eyes, alert as some small, golden bird. “Because he promised he would get me off of Eco, that’s why.”

“He said that?” My nails cut into my skin. My father never talks about leaving Eco. When Mom or I express our desire to flee the planet by any means necessary, Dad calmly lists all the reasons why our dream is impossible.

“Yes, over and over. I hated Eco you know. I’d always despised it—the dust, the lack of opportunity, the tiny, ugly compound … I thought I’d go insane, surrounded by people with no more ambition than a boulder. I was trapped, with no chance for any change, stuck seeing the same faces, day after day. And after my parents died—after this godforsaken ball of stone swallowed them whole—my hatred grew faster than your grandmother’s hydroponic vines.” She leans back, swaying slightly on the stool. “Jason said if I married him, he’d make it his life’s goal to get us both off this planet. He swore he’d do anything—steal credits if necessary—to book us passage with the first available trade ship. And I believed him.”

“He didn’t try?”

“You’re getting ahead of the story.” Mom crosses her hands, one over the other, in her lap. She looks like she’s reciting a lesson for a holo class. “The first red flag appeared the day we married. I asked him about his plan, and he told me not to worry, he had it all figured out. But, just to be safe, we should wait until the baby came. So I waited. I ate right and did all the proper things to make sure you’d be healthy, and I waited.”

“Seems like it would’ve been easier to leave, just the two of you, even with you pregnant, than dragging along an infant … ” I say, then snap my mouth shut. Stupid, so stupid. The look on my mother’s face confirms this assessment.

“Of course it would, and if I’d been in my right mind, I would’ve seen that excuse for what it was—a lie.” Mom runs her hands up and down her bare arms, as if stricken by a chill. “Then, on the night you were born, when I was first cradling you in my arms, he told me that he’d miscalculated. You were so tiny, so fragile—we should wait until you were just a bit older. But he vowed, once again, that he would get all three of us off Eco. He’d take us to Earth, and we’d be one little, happy family.”

I don’t want to hear any more of this. “Not sure I understand what this has to do with your leaving with another man or fortune hunters mining some mineral on Eco.”

“That night,” continues my mother, as if I hadn’t spoken, “holding you, my daughter, our child, I still believed him. I decided to wait, as long as necessary, for your father to fulfill his vow.” She turns the full force of her beautiful hazel eyes on me. “Do you know why I named the mineral Promissium? A name I know is foolish. A name that makes you and others laugh. I did it to send a message. Because it is the one thing that will finally give me what I was promised, Ann.”

She leaps to her feet, ignoring the clatter of the stool crashing to the floor behind her. In two strides she stands before me, and the fact that I am taller by several inches means nothing at all.

Before I can step back she locks her fingers around my forearms. “You ask me why I don’t love your father? I’ll tell you. It’s not anything he did. It’s what he didn’t do.”

I don’t hear my mom’s voice—not the voice of an adult, a leader of the Council, a fiercely independent, brilliant woman. I hear the voice of an angry child.

“He promised me.” She gives me a shake. “He promised.”

“I understand,” I say, although I’m not sure this is true.

Her grip loosens. She slides her fingers down my arms, catching my fingers in a gentle clasp. “The point is,” her honeyed tone returns, “I want you to come with me, Ann. This entire enterprise—it’s for you.”

I stare into her lovely eyes. It’s quite possible she’s telling the truth. Or, at least, believes she is. “You really want me to travel with you and Captain Patel?”

“I do. You see, I made you a promise when you were born, and unlike others, I always keep my promises. I swore I would give you what I could never have—our Earth heritage and a universe of opportunities.”

I wiggle my fingers to make her drop my hands. “Your life isn’t over. You still have time for yourself. For your own dreams.”

“I’m doing this for you.” Mom crosses to the far wall, to one of the lab’s small, dust-coated windows. “Because I love you, Ann, despite what you may think. I’ve always loved you, ever since I first felt your heartbeat under my hand. You were so small—I had to protect you.” She turns from the window to stare at me. “And that meant making sure you grew up independent and smart and strong enough to survive without me. Because I couldn’t be sure I’d always be here. I couldn’t promise this dreadful planet would allow us that luxury.”

Our gazes lock. I swallow hard and rub at the indentations my nails bit into my palms.
I’ve always loved you.
She spoke those words. I think I believe her. But sometimes, the realization hits me, love might not be enough.

“I can’t answer you now,” I say, fighting the tremor in my voice. “I need time to think.”

“That’s fine.” Mom walks toward me, her steps carefully measured. “Though Connor plans to leave as soon as we gather enough Promissium. That’s why I want to go ahead and use some mining equipment, you see. It will take far too long if we try to gather the mineral by hand.” Reaching me, she lays a cool hand against my cheek. “You don’t want to wait that long to leave, do you?”

“I haven’t said I was going.” I don’t know why I’m not jumping at this offer. It’s everything I’ve always wanted.

Well, not exactly. I want my family, my entire family, to flee Eco with me. When I daydream I don’t imagine leaving without my father or grandparents. I picture us living together on Earth. All of us.

As I study my mother’s icy smile images flicker through my mind—Dace, radiating happiness during our recent swim and Raid, grinning with delight in the presence of the Selk. That’s what I want for me and for my family. That joy.

Mom gives my cheek a gentle pat. “You think about it, Ann. Think long and hard.” One more pat, this time on my shoulder, before she walks past me and out the door.

I don’t turn to watch her leave. As the door clicks behind her, I observe dust motes sailing in the sunlight filtering through the windows. The tiny specks dance, sparkling like light reflected off water.

I’ve been handed my ticket, and by the one person I’d never dreamed would fulfill my dreams. It’s strange how all I want to do is sink to the floor and weep.

I stumble out of the lab and make my way to the living quarters, keeping my head down. There’s no one I want to see, and no one I want to see me. Not right now. No one but Emie.

Walking into her family quarters, I spy her mother standing at the microstove, swirling a large spoon around in a metal pot. I scratch at my nose, hiding my face behind my hand, and mutter something about meeting Emie.

“She’s not back yet,” says Ms. Winston. “Anything I can do, Ann?”

I duck my head. “No, no. Okay if I wait in her room?”

“Sure.” Concern laces her voice. “We’re having veggie stew tonight, if you want to stay for dinner.”

I wave my hand in her direction and dash into Emie’s bedroom.

I flop onto her bed and bury my face in her thin blanket, the tears flowing. I’ve always known my mom and dad didn’t have a perfect marriage, but the idea that it was brought about by some weird combination of need and necessity—blended with a measure of unrequited love on my father’s part—sends my mind reeling. It’s as if the solid ground of Eco is falling away, hurling me into a cavern, and dashing me onto the rocks below.

After a time, my tears dry up. I roll over, my arms crossed behind my head. Above me, the edges of old pictures flutter. I sniff loudly and stare at the makeshift collage that covers the ceiling, remembering when Emie and I balanced on a crate piled on a chair to affix those pictures. It’s comprised of laser photos of Andron Karl and his band, the StarKickers. At the time, Emie’d been obsessed with the doll-faced Andron for over two years, despite my insistence that the singer was merely the front for a computer-generated voice. Now, abandoned by even Emie, Andron’s overly smooth face smiles indulgently down at me. “You thought I was a fake?” his rouged lips appear to say. “What about your life, Anna-Maria Solano? What about your family and all those memories stuffed in your head? Anything real about that?”

I toss one of Emie’s pillows at the ceiling just as she enters the room.

“Using poor Andron for target practice again I see.” Emie examines my face for a moment then sits next to me on the bed. “You’ve been crying.”

“Brilliant deduction, Watson.” My lips twitch. Emie and I used to read Arthur Conan Doyle stories aloud, challenging each other to solve the crimes before we reached the final paragraphs.

“Well, Sherlock, explicate the facts.” Emie smiles and rubs my arm. “Something happen with Raid? Or … ” Her dark eyebrows arch above her eyes. “Dace, maybe?”

I sit up, wrapping my arms about my knees. “No, nothing to do with boys. And anyway, you’re the one with the bigger problem in that area.”

“Not anymore.” Emie whips out the ribbon threaded through her curls and tosses it to the floor.

“So Kam’s out of the picture?”

“Poof.” Emie spreads wide her hands. “Gone. Winked out like the stars on a cloudy night.”

“He may not agree.”

“Tough shit for him.” The look Emie turns on me is startling in its certainty. “I trust Raid and the others to keep him in line, and my parents have been informed Kameron Frye’s no longer a welcome guest. I hope you’ll pass the word to your family as well.”

“Of course.” I clutch my knees closer to my chest and rock slowly. “It’s my mom, Emie. She’s leaving Eco with Connor Patel.”

Emie’s dark eyes widen. “Oh. Well … that sucks.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’ve seen them, I mean … ” Emie bites her lower lip.

“No, it’s okay. Not exactly like they were subtle.” I glance up at Andron’s mocking mouth. “The thing is, Mom’s asked me to come with her.”

“When they leave Eco? Wow, Ann, it’s what you always wanted.”

It is. As everyone on Eco knows, it’s my one and only dream. But somehow, after my recent experiences, the thought doesn’t entice me. “We’d be leaving Dad and my grandparents behind.”

“I assumed.” Emie rolls over, balancing herself on one elbow, her chin pressed against the back of her hand. “You’d be leaving me too, of course. And Raid. But I’ve kind of expected it for a while. Doubt he has, though.”

“He’ll get over it.” I tap her nose with one finger. “You can comfort him.”

Emie snorts and bats my hand away. “We’re not interchangeable.”

“No, you’re a much better person.” I flop back onto the bed. “I don’t know, Emie. Not certain it’s what I want. Not like this, anyway.”