Beta (seventh day of the week)

  Elul (sixth month)

  Menaheim (planet #1), Frostwynd Galaxy

  Epoch 5, year 3822

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  On a planet made of dry, hot, barren, red-and-orange rock…

  On a planet where the wind always blows, filling my lungs, filling me with a longing for adventure and speed…

  On a planet whose surface is covered with dust and fine scree that makes eerie noises when it skitters across the ground…

  On this planet, on the outskirts of a large city-state, I stand, alone, an orphan.

  No one at all in the world to care for me except for those various casual friends who check up on me now and then and make sure I’m doing okay.

  I appreciate them, but I am used to being alone. Rare is the time when I don’t prefer the solitude. I like being alone, the only one I need to be concerned about, the only one whose welfare I need to look to, the only one in the cockpit, taking orders from no one else.

  I stand outside my little house, arms crossed, squinting into the light of two setting suns as the everpresent wind tangles in my hair. My leather flight jacket is tied by its arms around my waist, and the wind whips that around too.The sleek body of my airship partially blocks the light of the smaller sun, the sun lower on the horizon, but not enough. I have to raise my hand to shield my eyes. I already know I’ll be seeing afterimages once I look away.

  But I don’t want to look away. I’ve just finished repairing my Birdwing 600-R and, man, she looks good. She suffered some damage in my last race, but now? She’s as polished-looking as when Pa brought her home, brand-spanking-new, from Ransom’s Hangar.

  My smile dims slightly at the thought of Pa. It’s been two years and the pain is still as sharp as it was when I received the news of his death. I reach up and hook my finger through the silver ring that hangs on a leather thong around my neck. It’s Pa’s wedding ring, and it’s one of the only things I have left to remember him and Mama by.

  Tears clog my throat, squeezing until I can’t breathe. I cough, clear my throat. Blink away the wetness from my eyes. I’ve cried for my parents before, and it did nothing. I don’t want to be that weak again.

  Abruptly I turn away from my airship, from the suns, from the beautiful barrenness that I call home. Tucking Pa’s ring back inside my shirt, I stride into my small house. Cottage, really. It’s only got five rooms. A utilitarian kitchen, a very relaxing sitting room, a tiny and tidy bathroom, a bedroom I need to clean, and a room that is cluttered with maps of race tracks, with airship parts– the ones that fit inside, anyway–, with various pieces of tech and projects I’ve never gotten around to finishing. It’s… a mess. I walk past it without looking inside, and enter my bathroom.

  Water splashes in my sink, turning the gray stone even darker. I lather up my hands and arms with soap, scrub the black grease and dust from my skin. I love working on my Birdwing, but I do always end up dirty up to my elbows. I look up at the warped glass mirror above the sink, checking for streaks of grease on my face. There’s one, on my forehead. And my long, dark hair is incredibly untidy, courtesy of the wind. I sigh, washing my face and braiding my hair, then exiting the bathroom to head to my bedroom. I release my jacket from around my slim waist and toss the garment on the bed, kicking off my boots as I do. My dirty shirt gets tossed in a basket where all my filthy clothing goes until I get around to washing it. My leggings and socks follow swiftly after, and I tug clean garments over my small body.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  My bare feet pad softly on the stone floor as I head to the kitchen. Tonight’s meal is just dried milkfruit flesh and an assortment of roasted seeds, with a glass of milkfruit juice to wash it all down. Simple fare, but quick and easy to prepare. And tired as I am after working on my airship all afternoon, that’s all that matters.

  Slumped in my chair at the small table, I try to ignore the empty seats across from me as I eat. I always try to ignore them. I always fail.

  Tonight, in a bid for successful distraction, I do something I usually wouldn’t.

  A sleek, metal bracelet full of tech sits fastened around my left forearm. It’s called a UI* bracelet, it’s about five inches long and less than a quarter of an inch thick. Its CIS– or Computer Intelligence System– can do just about anything you need it to. Just about everybody has a UI bracelet nowadays. Mine may be slightly outdated, but it suits my needs. It’s got the customary touchscreen and holographic interface.

  Tonight I scroll through my data memory files on the holographic interface, finally selecting one– a video file– and letting it play as I shovel roasted seeds into my mouth.

  video file 00182

  > “Okay, Genesis, see the cans?” Pa says, kneeling beside me and pointing at the nine rusted metal cans sitting in a row atop the stone wall.

  “Sure thing, Pa.” Six-year-old me replies, adjusting my two-handed grip on Pa’s EMR** pistol. The blue energy inside the gun glows softly and, though the pistol’s safety setting is on stun, I know it could still be deadly if fired more than once. I keep it aimed at the cans and nowhere else.

  “‘Kay, then. I’ve told you what to do, Gen. Go for it.” Pa says and gives me a reassuring smile as I look up into his face. The wind stirs his beard and the bandanna tying back his long-ish hair. I look over at Mama, who is holding the cam, then turn my gaze back to the cans, breathe deep– in and out–, then squeeze the trigger.

  The pistol has minimal kick, but I still step back a pace. Pa’s bracing hand is at my back, and I squeeze off another round. Two small swirling balls of blue energy race towards one of the cans on the fence, but only one ball hits my target. The can jumps and falls off the fence, little tongues of blue lightning licking around it.

  “Did y’ see that, Pa?” I ask excitedly, looking up at him. He grins down at me.

  “Sure did, Gen.” He replies. I look over at Mama.

  “Did y’ see that, Mama?” I cry happily, looking over at her. Mama’s voice sounds from behind the cam.

  “Indeed I did, Genny!”

  The cam switches directions for a moment, and Mama’s lovely features come into view. She makes a silly face at the cam, then turns it back around to record me as I shoot three more cans off the fence. My aim isn’t great, but before the EMR charge runs out, I’ve shot all nine cans into the dust and scree. The scree is making its eerie ‘ew-ew-ew’ sounds as it skitters across the ground.

  I whoop in excitement and Pa laughs. Mama’s sweet chuckles sound from behind the cam, and she calls to me,

  “Well done, Genesis! You’ll be a crack-shot in no time, just like your Pa!”

  Pa takes his gun from me and holsters it. He ruffles my hair.

  “Making the Murray name proud, my little pilot.” He says proudly. I chortle in delight as he swings me up onto his broad shoulders.

  “Pa, Pa, can you take me flying tomorrow?” I beg him, leaning down to look into his face. He chuckles, his grip firm and secure on my ankles.

  “Maybe, Gen.” Is all he answers. He strides over to Mama, and she leans into the cam’s view to embrace my father. The cam tilts as Pa and Mama come together and the suns’ light glares off the lens, but it still catches them kissing. My childish giggles can be heard. Pa’s hand reaches down and clicks the cam off. The screen goes dark.<

  end of file.

  I come back to the present, to wet cheeks, a tight throat, an aching heart and a dinner only mostly eaten.

  Well, watching that was fruitless. I had thought… I had thought that maybe watching stuff like this, watching them, would maybe help the hurt to go away and I wouldn’t miss them so much anymore. At any rate, I had just wanted to see them one more time.

  But no, it hurts just as much as ever. Maybe more than usual. I sniff, wipe my cheeks dry, dump my dishes in the kitchen sink, and take myself off to bed. I don’t care that it’s early evening still. I just want to sleep. Sleep or race, and my next race isn’t until two days from now.

  I just want to forget, just for one moment, all I’ve lost.

  Maybe then I wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

  *User Interface

  **Electromagnetic Ray