Fractured Futures Read online

  5

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS WE travel to Australia and Amazonas. Lucy keeps it business-only with me even though everyone on the planet thinks she’s my girlfriend. The few times I get her alone, she lectures me. “Haven’t you seen the webs?” she asks when I try to talk with her before the rally in Amazonas. “There are pictures of us plastered all over! I’m sure the paparazzi are everywhere now, hoping to catch another picture of us alone. Is that what you want? Someone to capture us this very instant and tell the whole world we’re having a lovers’ quarrel?”

  “I really wouldn’t care, Lucy, because it’s not true.” Although the truth is I do care. I hate the idea of people all over the planet talking about my love life, especially since I don’t even have one.

  “If there’s one thing you should know by now, Jasper, it’s that the truth doesn’t matter. What’s true? The narrative. Whoever controls the narrative controls the truth. And right now I’m in a heap of trouble for letting the media control the narrative about our poor, injured lost hero, Jasper Adams.” She looks around and bends close. “Although we both know it’s better than the alternative.”

  She means the admiral’s plans to thwart the truce with the Resistance. “That’s what I need to talk with you about! Did you find something out?”

  Lucy glares and balls her hands into fists. “Don’t. Even. Ask.” She spins around on her very high heels and disappears up the hallway.

  For now, I’ll just have to hope that Lucy and her dramatic hunches are wrong. I shuffle back to the green room. The Lost Heroes Homecoming Tour can’t end fast enough. Thank goodness this is our last stop.

  Over in the corner, Denver is devouring a plate of at least a dozen chocolate chip cookies. Maybe my true soul mate is Denver, not Mira. I cross to the corner and plop down next to him on the couch.

  “You okay, kid?” he asks with a mouthful of cookie.

  “It’s Lucy.”

  “Trouble in paradise?”

  “We’re not—”

  “Kidding. We’re enough alike for me to know there’s only so much of her incessant talking you can take.”

  I grab a cookie off his plate and take a bite. It’s good, but not nearly as good as Mom’s. “What are you doing after the tour?”

  He shrugs. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I could head straight to the space station, since I’ll be departing from there for the Intragalactic Summit with the Earth delegation. But the truth is, I’m not looking to spend any extra time with a bunch of officers who grew up thinking I was dead. Not to mention, things between me and Cora—Admiral Eames, I mean—are awkward. You probably guessed that.”

  Anyone who witnessed their fight the other day would have guessed, especially knowing their history. After the lost aeronauts returned, the rumor mill churned out a thousand stories of the famed romance between Denver Reddy and Cora Eames, two of the most promising young officers in Earth Force before the Incident at Bounding Base 51.

  I steal another cookie. “You can come with me to Americana East, if you want.” Fortunately, Earth Force honored its commitment to let me see my parents before heading back to space.

  “I thought you were visiting your family.”

  “I am, but there’s plenty of room at our place. My mom’s a huge fan of yours. I know she wouldn’t mind. Plus, we can strategize for the Earth Force–Resistance negotiations, then head to the space station together.”

  What I don’t say is that Denver will still have plenty of time to connect with the admiral before the negotiations and the Intragalactic Summit. If it feels right, I can let him in on Lucy’s hunch, and maybe he’ll be able to find out the truth. He may not be on the admiral’s short list now, but he has a much better chance of weaseling his way into her inner circle than I ever will.

  “My mom makes great chocolate chip cookies,” I tell him.

  He thinks for a minute, then nods. “Sure, kid, why not?”

  * * *

  Wind rocks the passenger craft as it touches down at the aeroport in Americana East. The door to the boarding ramp opens to cold, pelting rain. Across the tarmac, a man holds a large black umbrella above himself and a woman wearing a long green coat.

  I smile and start down the ramp in the rain. When I get closer, I realize Mom’s right arm is in a sling.

  I bolt the rest of the way across the tarmac as the memories of the Americana East rally rush at me. The smoke. The noise. The chaos. My father crouching over my mother, shielding her from future injury as blood soaks her shirt.

  “Mom!” I stop short, not wanting to hurt her with a hug.

  She waves me forward and weakly wraps her free arm around my back. “I’m fine, honey, really.” When we break apart, she presses her palm against my wet cheek and smiles. “I’m so much better than fine, now that you’re home.”

  “Your arm.” I look to my dad then back to her. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

  Dad grips my shoulder and tries to shield me with the umbrella. “Your mother told you to go, Jasper. It’s what we wanted.”

  “Did you find her, Jasper?” Mom asks. “Did you find Addy?”

  I nod. “She’s okay.”

  Dad exhales. “Oh, thank God.”

  “I’ll tell you everything later.”

  Mom lifts her left hand to her heart. “I need to know now.”

  “He just got here, Emma,” Dad says, placing his palm on her back. “We know Addy’s safe. We can talk at home.”

  I think Mom’s going to protest, but then her eyes go wide. Her face softens into a shy smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  Denver has somehow managed to secure another umbrella. He doesn’t wait for my limited etiquette skills to kick in. He steps beside me and extends his hand. “Mr. and Dr. Adams, I’m Denver Reddy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  My mom’s cheeks color pink and she lifts her good hand to Denver. “We’re honored, Captain Reddy.” Her voice is higher than normal, giddy. It must be weird to meet someone who was your celebrity crush when you were a kid, especially when the celebrity barely looks a day older.

  He inclines his head. “Please, it’s Denver. Thank you for your hospitality. I was delighted when your son invited me to your home.”

  “Call us Richard and Emma,” my dad says, firmly gripping Denver’s palm. “And the pleasure is ours, Denver. Now let’s get out of this weather, shall we?”

  When we get back to the apartment, my mom apologizes profusely for the lack of food, which is funny because there’s a huge surplus of food. When she’s nervous, she cooks, and she cooks a lot for me. There are cranberry scones, and banana muffins, and a fresh loaf of oatmeal bread she must have baked this morning. In the fridge is real whipped cream that I’m guessing is for the apple crumble beside it. The counter is loaded with ingredients for her famous spaghetti sauce. That must be dinner. Yum.

  As promised, a plate of chocolate chip cookies waits for us in the center of the kitchen table.

  “Jasper warned me about these,” Denver says, eyeing the cookies.

  Mom lifts the plate with her good arm. “They’re his favorite.”

  Denver takes a cookie. He closes his eyes and slowly savors a bite. Then he grins at my mom. “Mine, too.” He gladly accepts a second cookie. “You were right, kid. These are the best chocolate chip cookies in the galaxy.”

  Mom beams. Then yawns.

  “Your mother needs to rest,” Dad says.

  “Richard!”

  “We talked about this, Emma. The doctor’s orders don’t get put on hold just because we have guests. We don’t want any setbacks.” She rolls her eyes but allows my dad to steer her to their room. “Why don’t you two take some time to relax as well?” he says when he returns to the kitchen. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

  “Is Mom okay?” I ask. Guilt pokes at me like a dull knife. I could have protected Mom if I’d warned them about the Resistance attack at the rally.

  He nods. “Yes, but she’s still not one hundred percent. She doesn’t want you worrying, Jasper.”

  I nod and wave Denver out of the kitchen. When we reach my room, Denver plops down on the beanbag my parents bought me after my first tour of duty with Earth Force. I begged them for it because it reminded me of our pod room.

  “Don’t blame yourself, kid,” he says quietly.

  He must see I’m still upset about what happened to my Mom at the rally. “What are you, a mind reader?”

  “Who needs to read minds to know guilt when you see it?” He stretches his long legs out in front of him, looking eerily like Waters in our pod room. “Trust me, in our line of work someone’s always getting hurt. Guilt just clouds the mind from doing what we need to do for the greater good.”

  I flop onto my bed. “That’s what you think we’re doing? Fighting for the greater good?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know what I think anymore. But I’ll tell you this. The peace talks and the Intragalactic Council requirements, they’re important. Really important. And you just might be the key to keeping them moving in the right direction. You’ve got to keep your head in the game, kid.”

  I can’t believe how much is at stake. I’ve barely processed the fact that I’m reuniting with my pod and traveling to the Youli planet in a few days. Why did the Youli insist we come? What if their motives aren’t as friendly as we think? Maybe they want revenge for our pod placing the degradation patch on their vessel at the last Intragalactic Council. We might never make it back from their planet. And where does Mira fit in to all of this? I’ve been so preoccupied with my own feelings for her, I haven’t spent enough time thinking about what her role will be in the upcoming negotiations… for the Youli and for Earth.

  Denver claps to get my attention. “How many cookies can I eat and still be seen as a polite guest?”

  I laugh, happy for the momentary distraction from my anxious thoughts. “There’s no cookie limit. My mom probably has another batch of them in the fridge.”

  “Excellent.” He clasps his hands behind his head. “Thanks for inviting me here, kid.”

  This might be the best chance I get to ask him about Lucy’s hunch. Mira’s homecoming, our trip to the Youli planet, the future of Earth Force–Resistance relations—all of that could be destroyed if Admiral Eames doesn’t honor the cease-fire agreement. “Do you think the admiral is going to keep her word?”

  “About?”

  “The cease-fire.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I know Cora. She’s honorable, almost to a fault.”

  “What if she thought it was in the Force’s best interest?”

  Denver sits up. “Do you know something I don’t, kid?”

  I shrug. “Just a hunch.”

  “Look, Jasper, I get why you’re skeptical. Earth Force has been lying to you your whole life. We’ve spent the last month onstage spewing the lies they forced down our throats. But this is diplomacy. The admiral would never go against her word.”

  Denver has faith in Admiral Eames. I guess that’s something. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Trust me, kid. Now I’ve got a question for you.” He sits up on his beanbag and leans forward. “When are you going to teach me how to play Evolution?”

  * * *

  After I’ve destroyed Denver a dozen times in trench warfare at Ypres, he finally ekes out a victory. By then, the apartment is filled with the sweet and savory smell of Mom’s spaghetti.

  My mom seems rested and happy when we gather around the table for dinner. Denver and I practically inhale our first plates. Before going back for seconds, Denver compliments Mom on her cooking and adds, “I’m so sorry about what happened at the rally.”

  She looks at Denver, then at Dad, then at me. I set down my fork and nod, letting her know that it’s okay, that I’ve told Denver the truth about what happened.

  Mom turns back to Denver. “Thank you. What about you? Were you injured like they said on the webs?”

  Now it’s Denver’s turn to cast his gaze around the table. He must assume my parents know that the narrative about my heroic acts and horrible injuries at the rally isn’t true. Otherwise, wouldn’t they have asked about that as soon as they greeted us at the aeroport?

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “They already know the truth about me.” I turn to my parents. “Denver wasn’t hurt, either.”

  “Then what did happen?” my father asks.

  What should I say? Our apartment could be bugged like I thought before Addy and I left for the last tour of duty. But even if it is, so what? What is the Force going to do if I tell my parents the truth? If I refuse to stick with the narrative? They can’t lock me up. They’ve agreed to send me to the Youli home world before the Intragalactic Summit.

  I take a deep breath and launch into the story. My bound to the labs. Denver’s kidnapping. Our voyage to Gulaga.

  Mom clutches my hand. Her face shines with a strained hope. “Tell us about Addy.”

  “Addy is fine, Mom,” I say, squeezing her hand. “She’s doing really well, actually. She’s on Gulaga with my pod mate, Marco Romero, and our Tunneler junior ambassador, Neeka.” I mention names they’ll recognize from stories of my tours of duty. That way they’ll know Addy is with friends. As I talk, Mom’s eyes fill with tears.

  “Why didn’t Earth Force just tell us that?” Dad asks. “Why all the secrecy? Why pretend that she’s dead? We’re her parents, for Earth’s sake!”

  “Addy’s no longer in Earth Force.”

  Mom’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

  This is the part of the truth that I should probably avoid. It’s safer for them if they don’t know. But the thing is, I’m done with secrets. I don’t have it in me to lie to my parents. Not anymore. Not when there’s so much at stake. I take a deep breath and tell them about the Resistance, the battle, the Youli. Everything.

  By the time I finish explaining Addy’s and my roles in the preliminary negotiation and our upcoming trip to the Youli home world, my parents are beaming with pride. Yes, it’s pride laced with shock and concern, but it’s definitely pride.

  Denver’s been quiet, letting me be the one to share the truth with my parents. He stands and clears the table like a good houseguest. He’s probably hoping my mom will set out some more cookies once dinner is cleaned up.

  When the table’s clear and my story is over, Denver steps behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. “You’ve raised an amazing son, Mr. and Dr. Adams. Jasper is an extraordinary young man. It’s my honor and privilege to know him.”

  My face warms. It’s kind of embarrassing for Denver to be saying this stuff about me, but I know my parents will eat it up.

  “The truth is a lot to face,” he continues. “It’s unnerving that the future of our planet is uncertain. But personally, I’m filled with optimism. I assure you that Earth has no better representative than your son. He and his friends are the future.”

  6

  TWO DAYS LATER, I HUG my parents good-bye and follow Denver into the backseat of the armored hovercraft the Force sent to take us to the departure dock for the Americana East aeroport. Only a few ships are cleared to land and depart from the planet, so Earth Force made arrangements for Denver and me to catch a flight on a cruise ship headed for the Paleo Planet. The craft stops at the space station for refueling anyway, so they’ll drop us off. The way the officer explained it via vid chat, the whole trip should be quick and painless.

  As soon as we step off the private water shuttle onto the deck, it’s clear this trip is going to be anything but painless. There are hundreds of passengers already on the deck. They’re all waving fans about their heads. Every fan is emblazoned with a picture of either Denver’s face or mine. Their high-pitched screams and squeals nearly knock me off my feet, and I’m used to screaming fans thanks to the Lost Heroes Homecoming Tour.

  The crowd parts. Florine Statton waltzes forward, flanked by half a dozen cameramen.

  She taps her fingers together in a flutter clap. “Our heroes have arrived!” Her voice reverberates, with each echo increasing in pitch. She must be hooked up to a high-tech amplification system.

  “What on earth did you get me into, kid?” Denver asks as Florine rushes forward, arms outstretched.

  “No clue,” I say.

  She hurls herself at Denver, bobbing her head left and right to kiss his cheeks. He’s left with bright pink smooch marks. When she dives for me, I lean to the side to make sure she’s only able to land a hug. Fortunately, I remember to hold my breath so I don’t choke on her rose perfume.

  Florine grabs our arms and steers us to face the crowd. She waves her right hand through the air in the shape of a tipped figure eight. Her elbow to my rib cage must mean she’s expecting me to wave, too. I shoot a glance at Denver. He’s glaring, but he obediently raises his hand and forces a smile for the crowd. The cameramen creep closer, zeroing in for close-ups before panning the crowd.

  The cheers swell like a wave. Florine’s handlers part the crowd. She waltzes after them, then calls over her shoulder, “Follow me, puh-leeeze!”

  Heading after Florine, I whisper to Denver, “I liked her so much better when she was just a faceless voice in my hotel room.”

  “That sounds creepy,” Denver says behind me, “but I completely agree.”

  We’re quickly swallowed by the crowd, most of whom are women my mom’s age. They reach out and touch my arms and even my hair. It’s gross. One of them grabs my jacket. I jerk it back, worried that my gloves will pull loose from the lining. I glance at Denver. He’s getting it twice as bad as me.

  Florine directs us to the automated boarding ramp for the passenger craft. Once we’ve rolled to the top, she spins us around for more waving. “Welcome to the first official Paleo Planet Celebrity Fan Cruise!”

  “Celebrity fan cruise?” Denver asks, careful that he has enough distance from Florine not to get picked up by her mic. “And we’re the celebrities? I’d say that was a pretty important detail to disclose when you sold the whole come spend the weekend with my family idea.”