Facsimile (2 page)

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Authors: Vicki Weavil

Tags: #science fiction, #romance, #alien, #military, #teen, #young adult

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My grandmother straightens and stares at me as if seeking some secret in my eyes. “You might not have been born at all, Anna-Maria, if it weren’t for Eco.”

“Is that all you needed?” I wipe my hands on my jeans. I have no interest in discussing my parents’ less than ideal relationship. Eco may have brought them together, but it’s also one of the main reasons they fight. Like me, my mom talks incessantly of leaving our isolated planet, while my dad seems content to stay.

“Yes, I suppose. Run along then. Check out these traders and see what you can pry from their greedy paws. But Anna-Maria,” my grandmother fixes me with one of her piercing stares, “don’t expect miracles. You know most of these ships can’t carry any extra passengers, even if we could afford passage.”

I waggle my fingers at her. “I know. See you later!” I dash out of the greenhouse before she can respond.

The public space of the compound is a cluster of metal-clad buildings that lean into each other like drunken revelers. I duck into the recreation hall, tracking my friends by the thump of bass and whine of synthesized guitars. I make my way to the back of the hall—to the game room, its walls papered with wafer-thin holo screens. A jumble of pillows and low gamer chairs, piled high with discarded headpieces and controller gloves, clutter the room. Slouched into one pile of cushions is a boy with hair the color of a sunset sky. Nestled in his pale, freckled arms is my best friend, Emeline Winston.

“Ann.” Emie sits up and runs her fingers through her dark curls. “Hear the news?”

“What’s that? Hey, Kam.”

The boy grunts at me. A real conversationalist, Kameron Frye.

“Well,” Emie bats Kam’s hand away as he reaches for her waist, “apparently, a member of the ship’s crew is our age. The nephew of the captain, or some such thing.”

“A seventeen-year-old crew member?” I perch on the edge of a battered table. “That’s new.”

Emie sits forward and wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, usually it’s skuzzy old guys.”

“And women,” says Kam. He grimaces. “If you can call them that.”

Emie’s hands rest on Kam’s knees. Her warm brown coloring makes his milky skin look anemic by comparison. “Well, most of the younger people are still in the service, I guess. Can’t even get a berth unless you’ve mustered out, and that’s years.”

“Poor jerks.” Kam leans into Emie’s back and nips at her ear.

“Oh, and we’re better off?” Although there are few people close to our age in the colony, I’m convinced Emie can do better than Kameron Frye. Apprenticed to our colony’s computer and communications expert when she was only fourteen, Emie studies every available holodisc, while Kam barely glances at anything educational. I can’t imagine what they talk about when alone. Well, to be honest, I suspect a serious lack of conversation in their relationship.

“Hell, yeah,” says Kam, unceremoniously sliding Emie off his lap. He stands and stretches, the gap between his shirt and pants exposing a well-muscled expanse of pale skin.

I want to tell him to forget the display, that I have no interest in his torso or any other part of his anatomy, but I bite my tongue. No use upsetting Emie. “Guess that’s a matter of opinion.”

Emie leans into the cushions, adjusting her position gracefully, as if she’d intended to be dumped to the side. “Well, maybe I’ll have to check this guy out. Someone new—could be interesting.”

“Calm down, Emie,” says Kam. “You don’t even know if this dude is a one-hundred-percenter.”

“Oh who cares?” Emie slumps back into the cushions.

“You should. Want to end up with some cyber or spacer?”

Emie frowns darkly. “Those Earth laws are crap. We’ve talked about this before.” Her eyes narrow as she glances up at Kam. “Or weren’t you listening?”

“Not after the zillionth time you mentioned it.” Kam crosses his arms over his chest. “Had to tune it out.”

I grimace, praying Kam’s remark won’t set Emie off. Her meltdown after her research uncovered the truth about Earth’s genetic purity laws is legendary. Of course, everyone on Eco has always been aware of the existence of the laws, but our basic educational materials don’t dwell on the details. The holodiscs simply mention that the citizens of Earth must carry a file verifying they were born of human parents or risk deportation. Not a problem for me or my family, since everyone on Eco is a “one-hundred-percenter.” Our colony isn’t home to clones, androids, or others affected by the laws. We occasionally encounter them among the spacer crews that land on Eco, but most colonists avoid prolonged contact with such creatures.

Not Emie. Fueled by her discovery that the laws were enacted primarily to rid the Earth of some of its excess population, she’s launched a one-girl crusade to expose the flaws in the regulations. She’s particularly incensed by the fact that the laws affect “cybers”—a label slapped on anyone who is over twenty percent cybernetic body parts. Cybers can’t be one-hundred-percenters, even though they’re born as human as anyone on Earth or Eco.

Kam’s green eyes glitter as he stares at Emie. “Whatever. Just be glad we’re verified humans. We can live on Earth if we want.”

“Not the point.” Emie studies Kam with the concentration she usually reserves for her digital circuitry. “When one group is oppressed … ”

“Not that again.” Kam grabs his head with both hands and lets out an exaggerated groan. “You’ll be granting rights to aliens next.”

I’m proud to be a one-hundred-percenter, but Kam’s obsession with this subject makes my hands twitch. “Mierda! Emie knows they don’t exist.”

It’s true. After all the stories and films and games, after all our imaginings of aliens, we haven’t stumbled over any such beings. Yes, we’ve discovered some creatures on other planets. But none have matched human sentience. In space, traveling from planet to planet, we are alone. I blink, unsure, as always, why that idea makes my eyes water.

Emie tosses her head. “Anyway, I’m just talking about flirting. A little fun. Not like I plan to have his babies. Got our bioplants to prevent that, thank goodness.” She swings one hand, slapping Kam’s bare arm. “Or I wouldn’t be fooling around with you.”

“Yeah, right.” Kam grabs her flailing arm and pulls her to his side. He doesn’t see the troubled look in Emie’s eyes. But I do. Yes, my friend. You can do better.

“Anyway, Ann,” Emie tilts her body so there’s a hands-width between her and Kam, “I heard your father invite the captain to dinner. Along with his nephew. So I guess you’ll get all the info.” There’s no disguising the envy in her voice.

I shrug. “Come if you want. I certainly don’t give two raps about some guy from a trade ship.”

“Well, that’s good,” says a voice behind me.

I turn to face the speaker. At eighteen, Raiden Lin is six feet of lean, toned muscle and lethal energy. Descended from ancestors who thrived amid the extremes of the Himalayas, his eyes are as dark and silky as his hair, and his smile turns most girls into gibbering fools.

Most girls. I face him down, feet planted apart. “Not that it’s any of your business, Raid.”

“Isn’t it?” Feathery dark brows lift over his black eyes. For a moment I’m distracted by the perfect fringe of his eyelashes and his amused smile. I recall the feel of those lips—that strong, sensual pressure that belies the soft curves of his mouth. Shaking my head, I look away. Everyone on Eco’s convinced Raiden Lin and I are destined to marry, or at least to live together. He’s just the right age, and we’re well matched in intellect and interests. But despite the pleasure I’ve experienced from his kisses, I’m determined to hold Raid at arm’s length. I’m getting off Eco as soon as possible. Somehow I’ll find a way to pay for passage on one of the ships that trade their goods for our fresh produce. I don’t care if my family and I only take the clothes on our backs, as long as we get back to Earth—back home. I’m willing to leave everything behind.

Except my heart.

“You’re such a liar.” Raid smoothes back the wisps of damp hair clinging to my forehead. “Don’t know why I waste my time on you, Ann Solano.”

“Who else is there?” My tone teases, but I’m deadly serious. Our colony’s small by necessity. Our infrastructure can only support a certain number of people, so births are carefully controlled to balance the need for population replacement with resources. Even considering the youngest teens, there are few girls close to Raid’s age. It’s not as if he has the whole universe to choose from.

“Well, there’s Emie.” Raid’s dark eyes examine my mouth in a way I find entirely too inviting.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Kam drops the game controller he’s been fondling.

I make a face at Raid. “Emie’s spoken for, and you know it. Kam will knock your head off if you make a move on her.”

“Damn straight,” says Kam.

Raid strokes the line of my jaw with one finger. “Chill, dude. I’m just revving Ann’s engines.”

“And talking about me like I’m not here,” says Emie. “So sweet. Thanks.”

I look over at my friend. It’s true her boyfriend would likely deck Raid over any flirtation, but I’ve often wondered if Emie and Raid weren’t the better match.

I’ll miss her when I leave Eco. The one person I can talk to about anything. But maybe my leaving will benefit her—Raid’s certainly a better boyfriend than Kam. Emie will have more options once I’ve shaken the dust of this rock off my feet. I smother a twinge of jealousy at this thought. I know I like Raid a little too much for my own good, but I can’t allow my feelings for him to alter the trajectory of my life. “Anyway, since it seems the parents have invited guests to dinner, I’d better go and clean up.”

“Thanks for asking, but I think I’ll skip it,” says Emie, after a glance at Kam. “We’ve got plans.”

“Plans? On Eco?” I shake my head. “What—a walk under the moons and then a romantic evening playing holo games with all the other people under twenty?”

“No.” Emie’s dark eyes flash. “Plans. You know. Jeesh, Ann.”

“Yes, plans.” Raid catches me by the wrist and pulls me close. “The kind of plans we should be making.”

I press the heel of my free hand into his breastbone. “You wish.” I push him back, twisting my other hand so he’s forced to release my wrist. “You people. All you think about is screwing around. Don’t you ever want to do anything else, anything more?”

“What the hell else is there?” Kam flops back onto the cushions next to Emie.

I suck in a deep breath. Much as I hate to admit Kam’s right about anything, he’s spoken the truth. What the hell else is there?

“There has to be something,” I reply, talking to myself as much as to the others. “There just has to be.” I reach out and take Raid’s hand. “Sorry, but I gotta go. Catch you later maybe?”

His eyes are shadowed beneath his dark lashes. “Sure, whatever.”

I turn on my heel and leave before he can say anything else. Before the hurt in his eyes can make me pause.

There must be more. Somewhere, far from here, there is something more.

And I will find it once I can find a way to get myself, and my family, off Eco.

 

 

The first thing I notice when I enter our tiny dining and living area is my mother’s pink dress.

Mom traded two bins of tomatoes and a holofone for that dress. She only wears it on special occasions. I wouldn’t have thought dinner with the captain of a trading ship would merit such attention, but I guess I was wrong.

The pastel dress clings to my mother’s curves in a way that draws most men’s eyes. Connor Patel, owner and captain of the space trader Augusta Ada, is no exception. His gaze focuses on Mom like a laser, taking in the voluptuous figure that’s perfectly proportioned to fit her petite frame. Tara Cooper is the most beautiful woman on Eco—a fact she uses to her advantage whenever possible. Her blond hair, cut short to halo her heart-shaped face, accents her hazel eyes and makes her appear years younger than her actual age.

She’s as lovely and delicate as the butterflies I’ve only seen on holodiscs. But I know all too well the razor-sharp mind lying beneath that golden cap of hair. Those who underestimate my mother do so at their peril.

I’ve never dared. My father’s genes may have dominated my appearance, but my intelligence is an inheritance from both parents

“Hello,” I say, glancing about. I notice my father is seated near my grandparents, across the table from my mom. My eyes come to rest on the young man seated next to Captain Patel. The boy is a slighter, paler facsimile of the older man, with the same dark hair and the same liquid brown eyes fringed with impossibly thick black lashes.

“Ann.” My mother motions for me to sit across from the young man. “Everyone, this is our daughter, Anna-Maria. Though she prefers you call her Ann.”

My grandmother coughs to cover some comment in Spanish. I tap my grandfather’s shoulder as I sit between him and my father. We share a conspiratorial glance over my grandmother’s not-so-subtle reaction.

“So,” says Captain Patel, “I assume you were two of the first people on Eco, Paloma and … ?”

“Zolin.” My grandfather’s lips tighten. He’s clearly irritated the captain has already forgotten his name. “Paloma and Zolin Solano. Our son, Jason, is your host. Along with Tara, of course.”

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