Paradox (8 page)

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

She grins. “Your call.”

“Fine, beef stew.”

“You read my mind.” She grabs two packets of beef stew, tosses him one, and turns her attention to her own. The instructions are printed on the package, but Ana must have used these before, because the actions are instinctive. She gives the packet three good shakes, then rips the top cleanly off. This unseals the outer heating pack, which she peels back and folds over the bottom half, punching the heating tabs into their slots. She puffs the packet out so it stands on its own. The whole time her hands are going through the motions, there’s
no thought involved. She grins a little when she realizes this. Another piece of her lost self being reclaimed.

“The famous three-minute readymeal,” Todd says with a grin. Ana smiles as she sees those words printed on the wrapper.

Each packet has a biodegradable spork attached to the outside, and before long Ana and Todd are sitting side by side, picking carrots and potatoes and chunks of lean meat out of the silvery wrapper, under a cotton candy sky, with the Dead Forest at their feet.

“Beef stew at the end of the universe,” Ana says.

Todd turns to her and his look is a little too serious, as if there’s something he might want to say, if he could get it out. Then he sighs and stuffs another bite into his mouth.

“Beef stew appears to agree with you,” Ana says, not sure if she should be disappointed by his not sharing whatever was on his mind.

Todd smiles easily. “One hundred percent daily additives!”

She smirks as she sees that he’s still quoting from the packaging, and wants to laugh at the incongruity of the situation. The odd moment has passed and they return to eating, but there was something there, something she might recognize if she saw it in another light, something she doesn’t really want to think about right now.

Instead, she finishes her meal, turns the packet inside out to start the biodegrading process, then leans back onto her elbows on the stone surface. She throws her arms out flat to
either side, feeling the stretch all the way down the muscles of her back.

Her fingers, dangling off the sides of the rock, brush up against a cluster of something small and knobby. She cranes her head over the edge and looks down. A small vine is growing out of a fissure in the rock, and it’s heavy with small gray berries.

Curious, she plucks one. It’s firm, like a chunky blueberry. She squeezes, and the berry bursts. A trickle of pinkish-purple juice runs down her finger.

“Todd,” she says, “do you know what these are?”

He scoots off the rock and crouches down next to her. “Rockberries, sure. Word on the street is they’re just about the best berry in the galaxy!”

He laughs out loud, and Ana figures it’s as much for the bit of knowledge, trivial as it might seem, as for the fruit itself.

“They grow out of the rock?” Ana asks.

“Sure. They taste good, too.” Todd plucks one off the stem and leans toward her. She freezes as his fingers graze her cheek. Her heart pounding in her chest, she parts her lips and he pops the berry in. She bites down, and the tiny fruit fills her mouth with a tart sweetness that is like a bite of blue sunshine. “Oh!” she gasps.

He rubs his fingers together, and his thoughtful look gives her a strange discomfort, a fluttering in her chest that she’s quick enough to recognize and smart enough—
Honestly, Ana! Now is not the time for boy thoughts!
—to quash immediately. She
leans over the side of the rock and starts harvesting the berries. “I’ll beat you to the patch, then,” she says.

He grins and shoulders her out of the way. They empty the little vine in minutes, making a mad dash for the last few and then turning to chase the ones that have tumbled onto the grass.

Finally Ana collapses on the ground. The fullness in her belly spreads down to her toes, a warm satisfaction that she wishes she could capture and keep in a bottle.

Todd lies sprawled next to her, his eyes closed. Ana studies him, considering the curve of his jaw, the jut of his cheekbone. There’s a twist of thornbush stem twined in his hair and she reaches over to tug it free. He opens his eyes, and his look jolts her. Then a sharp pain in her finger makes her jump. She looks down to see a thorn halfway into the pad of her index finger.

Todd takes her hand in his, pulls off the thorn stem, and tosses it away. As he rubs her finger, she holds his gaze. “I …” She stops. What can she say? That she doesn’t know what’s going on but she thinks she might want to follow it and see where it leads? That when he looks at her with that sleepy half smile, she has a desperate wish to capture this moment and keep it forever?

It’s ridiculous enough to even think these things, so she doesn’t say anything; she just sits and fills her memory with his face.

Then the peace is shattered by something so unexpected
that Ana can only sit up and goggle in wide-mouthed shock. Two figures throw long shadows in the high morning sunslight. Two forward-striding, rapidly approaching forms, coming, calling
—yelling!
—with voices that ring out across the wide clearing.

“Hiya, strangers! Thought you’d never show up! Had time to miss us yet?”

Todd is up and moving so fast that he’s halfway across the clearing before Ana has even fully registered what she’s hearing. Words! Honest-to-goodness, spoken-out-loud-by-people words!

By the time she scrambles to her feet and starts off after him, Todd is up ahead confronting the two newcomers. There’s aggression all over his posture, though they don’t seem especially threatening.

Ana slips a hand inside her vest to check for the solidity of the pistol, wishing she’d thought to pull it out earlier to see how it works. Hoping that her muscle memory will do its thing if it comes to that, she strides toward the group.

“Todd?” she calls. “Everything okay over here?”

It’s as if someone has pulled the plug on the discussion. Todd’s antagonistic stance melts away. The two strangers, a guy and a girl, look up in Ana’s direction.

The guy lifts his hands in the air, palms up. “We come in peace,” he says, giving her a cocky grin. He’s got short, spiky hair and a wiry build and enough attitude to power a rocket. “No wicked thoughts here whatsoever. I’m Chen.”

“Ysa,” says the girl standing next to him. She’s small-boned and pale, with white-blond hair and an easy, graceful manner. Her smile looks strong enough to hold.

Ana realizes two things immediately. One, the newcomers are both around the same age as she and Todd. And two, they are both wearing the same jumpsuit and backpack. She thinks back to the rocket and the two sealed doors she’d assumed were for fuel or storage or whatever she thought when she saw them hours ago.

“You’re from the ship, too?” Ana exclaims. “I’m starting to wonder how many of us there are. Every time I turn around it seems like there’s another rat running this maze.”

Chen smirks. “We’re it, baby. Just the four of us, jetting across space on some half-assed mission. Doesn’t that just rock your world?”

Ysa nudges him with a grimace, then reaches out her hand. “Ignore him, really. It’s good to meet up with you.”

“I’m Ana. And the more the better out here, I figure.” Ana reaches out her hand to clasp the girl’s, though as she does, the gesture feels weird for some reason she can’t define. Ysa’s
hands are milk white, but it’s not the contrast between her skin and Ana’s own rich tan that gives her pause. It’s something more to do with feel.
But … what?
Is it a memory trying to break through?

It’s not landing, so Ana brushes the thought aside and releases Ysa’s hand. Chen nods and extends his for a fist bump.

Ana grins. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Chen just shifts his pack on his shoulders with a loud laugh. “Come on, fellow stargazers. We have plenty of ground to cover and a tightly budgeted time purse.”

Todd nods. “Next destination, the summit at Mount Fahr.”

“I’m Chen Wai,” Chen says, “and I will be your guide on this planetary expedition. If you turn fully to your left, you will see the awe-inspiring, skyscraping Timor range, home of the only known active volcano in the Cyclid system.”

In spite of herself, Ana laughs. Chen takes off at a zesty pace, with Todd following right on his heels. Ana falls into step behind them next to Ysa. The other girl moves confidently across the uneven terrain, but between that and the pack on her shoulders, she seems to be operating at full capacity. Her breath is already coming in quick bursts. Despite this, she looks over at Ana with a friendly smile and a nod. “Doing okay with all of this?” she asks.

Ana smiles back. “I could ask you the same.”

“I’m not as puny as I look,” Ysa says with a laugh. But she puffs a little to smooth out her breathing. They walk in silence for a few minutes; then Ysa clears her throat. “I wonder, uh … 
well, Todd told us that both of you guys don’t have any personal memories?”

Ana goes suddenly still.
You guys?

Ysa’s got her eyes on the ground in front of her, fully caught up in her own thoughts. “I just can’t even imagine it. Can I ask … well, what does it feel like? You really don’t remember
anything
?”

“Wait,” Ana says, grabbing Ysa’s arm. “You mean your memory
wasn’t
wiped?”

Ysa’s eyes widen, like maybe she’s worried she said the wrong thing. “No,” she says slowly. “Not me or Chen.”

Everything around Ana comes into sharp focus. “Then you know what we’re doing here! Right? You know what the mission is, why our memories are gone, everything!” She wants to laugh out loud.

Ysa opens her mouth, but at just that moment Ana hears a sound she had hoped to never hear again. It’s far away, but she’d know that grinding anywhere.

“Oh, no,” Ana says, exhilaration falling away from her in one great swoop.

All four of them stop. Chen says hoarsely, “What the hell is making that sound?”

“The worm,” Todd says. He turns to Ana, brows drawn sharply together. “Could it be following us?”

“What are you two talking about?” Ysa asks, panic in her voice. “What worm? There’s no animal life on Paradox—definitely nothing that could make a noise like
that
!”

“It sounds like fire,” Chen whispers. “Like licking tongues of flame. And voices …”

It sounds nothing of the sort, of course. As it has from the first, the sound of the worm’s approach is a harsh metallic grinding. And it’s getting louder by the second, even though the creature isn’t yet visible. Ana takes a few steps back down the slope, testing the worm-killing passion she’d felt earlier. It’s still there, and she can’t help thinking how much better their odds would be now that there are four of them.

“What do we do?” Ysa wails. “I don’t understand what’s going on!”

On the other hand, maybe not so much better.

“It’s some kind of huge creature, looks almost like a worm—if a worm were the size of a train,” she tells Ysa. “We ran into it back at the crater. I just don’t understand how it’s found us again.”

“It can’t have come through the forest,” Todd says. “We’d have seen trees shaking or falling or something. It must have gone around.”

“Around? And it was at the crater with you?” Chen echoes. His lightness sounds forced as he says, “Then we’d be dealing with Superworm. Moving at the speed of light!”

Ana thinks of the way the worm was attacking the rock face back at the crater. “Could it have gone underground?”

“I don’t want to hear anymore,” says Ysa. “Let’s just get moving.”

“We’d better find some shelter,” Todd says.

Chen lets out a whoop, and Ana turns to look at him, startled. “Shelter!” he says. “Where better than inside the mountain? Come on, I know just the place.”

“You’re thinking of the caves,” Ysa says, relief breaking over her face. She pushes past Chen and tackles the incline. Todd and Chen follow, and Ana brings up the rear. Getting out of the worm’s reach is obviously the right choice, but still she can’t quite dismiss the fight fuel that’s lacing the pit of her stomach.

The grinding sound gets suddenly louder, and Ana glances back over her shoulder. In the meadow where she and Todd first stopped to rest, the worm bursts into view from behind a gentle slope, like maybe it really did rise up from under the ground. Mud-pink and monstrous even from this distance, its body is made up of overlapping plates that grind against each other, and its head has two cavernous eyeholes and a slash of a mouth that splits it neatly down the middle. As she watches, that mouth opens in a silent grimace, showing a tunnel of teeth—three, four, six razor-sharp rows.