Chapter 2 Home Sick

  I awkwardly wave back to Susie and try to strike up some conversation, “Hi, Susie, how's it going?” Whenever I see Susie I always tense up. It gets harder to think straight.

  Her mother’s white skin pinkens on Susie’s cheeks as she twirls the thick dark hair her African father gave her, “I'm doing alright, Matt. Learning quite a bit from Dr. Vogel! Her tests are way harder than anything in class.”

  Dr. Vogel snorts and interrupts as she examines Old Garth, “That’s because saving lives is a greater burden than learning factoids of a dead world, young lady! Who cares that the Pacific Battle for Independence destroyed so many reefs that specialized Holomals were introduced into the oceans to reconstruct ocean habitats. We already know Holos are there.”

  Susie gets a few items under Dr. Vogel’s direction and again twirls a finger in her dark hair. She quietly says, “Thanks again for saving me, Matt. I'll make it up to you sometime, OK?” Her eyes look down at me. Susie is almost a head taller than me. She’s never made fun of me for it. And she’s had many opportunities over the years to make short jokes. It still feels awkward.

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  I chuckle, “Don't worry about it, Susie. I would have tried to save any kidnapped Sojourner.”

  “I know.” Susie gives me a bashful smile back and looks away, which is unusual for the normally outgoing girl. Is she uncomfortable being around me now? Maybe she feels like she owes me. Like she’s stuck. It’s more awkward since gene mapping as kids said we’d be a good match to keep genetics from narrowing. And our parents have tried to push us to spend time together. A cage of expectations Susie shouldn’t have to worry about.

  Susie pulls me out of my glum thoughts by asking, “By the way, isn't your month of punishment done soon? You could grab Lee and get ready for the expedition?”

  “Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder! See you later, Susie.”

  “Bye, Matt!” Susie says as Dr. Vogel grunts her own goodbye since the cantankerous cat’s claws demand her full attention. My tablet dings as Crypticks transfer to my account for the completed job.

  I make my way over rope bridges, wooden boards, and any other railings we could rig up between the gently rolling ships and hexagonal living platforms we call home. Sojourn has grown over its forty-year history. And as always, it’s a balancing act of who and what we can afford to save. And if we can maintain it. I get back home to our ship and hear the frustrated and loud voice of my little brother Lee. I swear he could give a ship’s foghorn a lesson. I roll my eyes. What's going on this time?