Prologue: Mia
Year: 2028
“Roger, Roger, four-niner. Copy. Starship T1-95 Pandorum, coming at you live from the outer edges of the universe. Is there anybody out there?”
Silence. That is all you’ll hear and know.
“Copy, breaker. Starship T1-95 Pando—oh, forget it,” I muttered.
I used to feel like there was a chance. For us. For Earth.
I saw the color of the world change, felt the irritability in people turn worse. Most of us stopped going outside. I tried to ignore the knocks on my door, the escalating panic as people begged to be let in. To be given an ounce of water.
The heat was unbearable. The cold, even worse.
Earth was dying. Started so long ago, but it spread like a fucking wildfire.
We had to leave. It was for the good of our species. And I had my work. Project Onyx. The Fertility Ark.
Onyx Corp provided me with a dream. I took it and escaped.
The fertilization tests had been inconclusive, to say the least. The fertility rates were shit in deep space. And I… well, I found out I couldn’t have children.
I had to put that out of my head. Everyone was gone, and I wasn’t sure if we’d even survive once we reached planet Nyela. Up here, I counted on nothing and no one.
Most likely, I’d never feel that wonderful feeling again. Love Lust. Passion.
I’d never feel the heavy mount of a man. And I wasn’t about to find a connection with any of the crew.
No, I’d never feel the power of a man again. I’d never get fucked so hard it broke me.
But I could still use my imagination.
I wondered what we’d find when we got to our destination. I wondered if there was someone strong enough to take my heart as his own.
2
Mia
“Starship T1-95 Pandorum to Mission Control. Another day away from finding sanctuary, as they say. All systems are go. I repeat. System check is showing superb efficiency marks. The crew is robust and healthy. Well, as healthy as those bastards can be. The remaining travelers in the cryo-chamber—you know, the rich patriarchs who paid their way to be the wonderful colonizers of the first crappy rock they found suitable? Vitals are better than butter. Surprising, but I think we might be looking at Earth’s first real success story.”
The machine scanned my retinae and beeped, displaying green into my pupil. I was good to go. I could finally rest.
I leaned my cheek against the window near my bunk and let the cold barrier calm me. There was always darkness. Sometimes, we’d pass by the occasional planet or treacherous asteroid belt.
Most of the time, there was nothing but… time.
None of the crew wanted to discuss what happened.
We all witnessed the weather patterns change below our starship. Hurricanes swept through our glorious waters. We saw entire landforms flood and disappear. The calming lights from the fishermen of the South Atlantic went out, one by one. They never came back on.
I still made daily recordings to the flight log because I yearned to interact with another one of our own. I wished for the touch of someone who wasn’t as crazy as some of the crew. Up here, we were closed off. Tensions were high, and you never knew when someone needed restraint.
I knew my recordings would never be heard by a soul. The alarming truth about space was there wasn’t a soul out here other than us.
If there were, we would have found it by now.
Regrettably, the pilot and I were paired with the last people desperate enough to sign up. Death Row inmates. Besides us, they were the only ones to sign up.
The idea was approved by the Onyx board of directors. They were to colonize our future home with some guidance. In essence, they were duped into believing they were noble men leading the cavalry. They were going to repopulate the heavens.
They had no idea what they were up against. The board expressed that there was no surety in any of this, but that’s the way all missions went. Lewis and Clark didn’t set out without worry.
I learned how to deal with them. It was important to know what tactics to use to calm them down. I learned how to fight and win. We established control, and for six years we roamed the darkness.
I had nothing left to stay for. My brother and I had a falling out over my decision to sign up for the program. He told our parents, our cousins, and everyone he could find. No one could understand my desperation. I wanted to find a way to save humanity.
With the help of the Fertility Ark, sponsored by Onyx Corp, I’d learned all I needed to know about keeping our species safe.
I fell into my work.
Our ship had thousands of DNA samples to choose from. Some were brought from home. Others were from the men on board.
It was in the women’s contract to conceive, but Juliana pulled the plug on that after we lost a handful of the good ones. In solidarity, I volunteered, but I wasn’t special. I’d never get the chance to be pregnant.
It didn’t matter. The radiation was far too strong for any of them. Life wasn’t supposed to be here, and I was aware of how small my chances were of succeeding.
I walked through the narrow enclosure, and stopped to check on the cold samples in my lab. The incubator stared back at me, and I scoffed. Sex was supposed to be a mandatory event, but Juliana also put an end to that. Thank God.
But even with the lack of good men on this ship, I still wanted what I could not have. A family, a new home, a man I could depend on – each day that passed, I obsessed over it until I couldn’t take it any longer.
It was difficult to look at the nursery with hope, and once I closed the door, the worry did me in. The silence of my lab was growing on me, and not in a good way.
I walked through the elongated hallway, making my way toward the cafeteria, perhaps a bit too ready for my compulsory hour of interaction. I had to give the inmates their pills, do a headcount, and take their samples. There was also the joy of eating the fine breakfast paste.
“My favorite,” I whispered as the doors automatically opened for me.
“You’re late,” Juliana said, motioning me toward her. Sh
e was already finished with the headcount, and most of the inmates had already started eating.
I handed her my tray and waited to be served. “I did all of last week, remember?”
She smirked. “I remember, I remember,” she growled. “Now get out of the line so I can feed the rest of the monsters.”
I found my place in the corner, away from everyone. Keeping my head down, I started to eat the nutritional banana paste. Delicious.
I swallowed and tried not to hurl. “Gross,” I whispered.
Right as the word left my mouth, I felt the presence of one of the inmates stop. Without thinking, I put my hands against a thin remote inside of my jacket. If he fucked with me, we’d lock him down and administer a sedative with force.
I slowly glanced up and narrowed my eyes at the prisoner. It was Cade Fryer, the man I put in solitary. There wasn’t one person on this ship who trusted him.