‘I keep forgetting it’s real, actually. Then I remember and feel glad, but whenever I feel glad, I also feel guilty that I get to go and she…’ They fell silent. On her ankle was the friendship bracelet that Ara had woven for her one Christmas when she had no money for a ‘proper gift’. It used to have three tiny silver bells on it, so that ‘you can have music wherever you go’, Ara had laughed, and then rattled the bracelet on her own ankle, ‘and so you’ll always know where I am.’ Over time the bells had come loose and dropped off, each in turn. The pain of it was crushing and fresh every time Astrid thought about it. She’d thought they would all grow old together.
She only realized she was crying again when Solomon looked at her in alarm.
‘I’m sorry,’ Astrid said, her face burning with shame. She jumped up and tried to duck back into her room, but he put his hand on her shoulder and for just a moment they both froze in surprise.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said. A fresh wave of tears from Astrid. He did something she’d never seen him do before. He leant forward and hugged her. And, for half a minute, when Astrid buried her face into his shoulder, she forgot who he was. Her commander. Her once and future teacher. Forgot that she was still in her pyjamas, her feet bare, hair still in the fat cornrows she had tied them in the night before. She liked the way he smelt, distantly, of aftershave. Sandalwood and bergamot.
‘I should go,’ she said suddenly, leaping back.
‘Of course.’ He stepped away. Astrid turned and fled down the stairs.
She rushed down the oak-panelled hall of the residential wing of the space centre, hoping to reach the refectory in time to catch the tail-end of breakfast. She had missed lunch and dinner the previous night, and her head was spinning with hunger. But she was surprised on turning a corner to spot the provost of Dalton Academy through the glass pane in the door of a meeting room. Astrid ducked, instinctively: six years at Dalton had instilled an almost Pavlovian dread of the woman.
‘…ever recover, quite frankly.’
Who was she talking to? Astrid peered through a gap in the door, and spotted the slight figure of Dr Friederike Golinsky, one of the medical directors. They spoke in hushed voices and as Astrid leant in to listen she noticed Dr Golinsky’s uneven intakes of breath, the shuddering of her shoulders. She was crying.
‘We all have to make sacrifices—’
‘I know, I just thought there would be more time. That the mission would be suspended or delayed, at least, for half a year.’
‘Come on, Fae. We both knew that had to be avoided at all costs. And consider the costs.’
‘But I’m—’
‘This is bigger than you!’ the professor shouted. ‘We all have our part to play, and…’ Her voice died down suddenly.
‘Did you hear something?’ Dr Golinsky asked. They both turned towards the door.
Astrid leapt back and stood for a moment, holding her breath. When the soft hiss of voices behind the door started up again, she turned in the opposite direction and headed to the refectory, where the whole crew sat together on a table near the glass wall. They had almost finished eating by the time she entered.
‘Glad you could join us,’ said Harry. ‘It’s not breakfast until Astrid arrives.’
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ asked Astrid.
‘We thought that Maggie would wake you,’ Poppy said.
‘I don’t think Maggie will be doing anything anytime soon,’ Harry said, gulping down the last of his coffee with a grimace.
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Juno.
Harry looked at her with wary disbelief. ‘Because she’s been suspended.’
The words hit Astrid like a jab in the solar plexus. ‘What?’
‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘I guess they had to blame someone. Dr Millburrow was supposed to be our psychiatrist when we’re in space. It was kind of her job to know if one of us was planning to, you know…’ He trailed off with a shrug.
‘It’s not fair.’ Poppy shook her head, ‘None of us knew.’
‘True,’ said Juno. ‘But at least the mission’s still going ahead. There was talk yesterday of delaying the launch. Or decertifying us all.’
Harry snorted. ‘You didn’t really believe that, did you? Delaying the mission would cost millions. Everything’s already planned. Hundreds of thousands of people have come to London to watch the launch. There was a lottery for the tickets. The prime minister will be there. What did you think they were going to do? Say, Hey sorry about that, the launch can’t go on because we can’t control a bunch of kids?’
Astrid supposed it was true. And the public had come to love all of them, were captivated by their personal stories of success. It was part of the reason the programme had accrued so much additional sponsorship from private organizations. Swapping the members of the current Beta for other astronaut candidates so soon before the mission would likely tarnish the reputation of the entire programme.
‘Okay, maybe not that,’ Poppy said. ‘But launching on a mission like this before she’s even buried… it just feels like bad luck or something.’
They were quiet for a moment. The refectory was unusually empty, with very few of the space centre personnel huddled over their breakfast or queuing near the coffee machines.
‘You should get something to eat,’ Poppy said.
Along the opposite wall were vats of juice, hot water for tea and trays of cereal bars. Astrid took a handful and stuffed them in her pockets.
‘It’s a big day, love,’ said the ruddy-faced cook from behind the counter. Astrid flashed her ID and the cook handed over a tray marked with her name. Lots of dried food, toast, chopped bananas – food that was unlikely to turn in her stomach during the launch. The cook winked, and added two oily sausages onto her plate. ‘You’ll need it,’ she said.
‘Thanks.’
The cook smiled, then pointed to the cereal bars, inviting her to take more.
Astrid returned to the table.
‘Think it’s really a good idea to eat all that?’ said Harry, eyeing her plate. Astrid sat down beside her sister, who was nursing only a cup of peppermint tea. Harry’s tall glass was slick with his usual protein shake – raw eggs whipped into a frothy mixture with warm milk, which he used to suck down with a straw before heading out with his rowing team to the river.
‘I don’t know how you can eat anything at all,’ Poppy said, dropping her spoon with a sigh of surrender. ‘Doesn’t your tummy feel all…’ She made a face and Juno nodded.
‘You better hurry up,’ Juno said, glancing at her watch. ‘We’re supposed to stop eating five hours before the launch. Which gives you twenty minutes to get that down.’
Harry looked across the long table to where Eliot sat with two empty seats either side of him. He was paler than usual in the morning light, his lips were chapped and bleeding and he stared down at his plate of scrambled eggs as if he could not understand how they came to be there. ‘He’s got the right idea,’ Harry said. ‘Don’t want to see that breakfast coming right back up again when we launch, eh?’
‘Shut up,’ Eliot hissed without looking up.
‘I’m just saying,’ Harry continued, ‘won’t be so tough in three hours if you’re puking your guts up, right?’
Eliot lifted a fork and flicked a few globs of scrambled egg at Harry, who dodged too late and then cried out in fury as the egg splashed his eye. His expression immediately darkened and he swore.
‘Please!’ Poppy said. ‘Please don’t turn this into another fight.’
‘Tell that to him,’ Harry said, wiping his eye with a paper napkin.
‘Don’t tempt me,’ Eliot said, very quietly. ‘Not today.’