Eliot remembered the story.
‘For them,’ Ara continued, and by ‘them’ Eliot imagined that she was referring to the flag-waving masses, ‘for them, the height of victory is tomorrow, the launch, when the whole world will be watching. They won’t even care about the mission two months from now when the Olympics start. None of them will live to see us land. And, maybe we won’t.’
‘No.’ Eliot turned away from her again, watched as a crowd of commuters waxed and waned at the crossing. They turned, over the bridge, past the busy tube station. ‘It’s not true. They’re planning on sending missions of people after us. For people to join us. I don’t believe you.’
‘Because you don’t want to,’ she said, leaning across the gap between them.
‘What do you want me to do with this information, Ara?’
‘Follow me,’ she said. The car headed down a familiar side road.
‘You think that we can drop out?’ he said, angry now. ‘You think that’s even an option?’
Ara shook her head. They both knew that, at this late stage, it would take more courage to leave the programme than it would take simply to go to space.
The British Interplanetary Society came into view, and within a few seconds they were almost there, heading into the car park.
‘What’s your plan?’ Eliot asked her as the driver slowed. Ara looked at him for a long time, as if holding the knowledge in her fist, daring herself to speak.
Chapter 52
JUNO
16.02.13
TEMP: 1°C
O2: 75% SEA LEVEL
WEEKS UNTIL RESCUE: 7
THEIR SEARCH FOR ELIOT led them up to the greenhouse, where most of the lights were still off. Poppy called out his name in the darkness, and Juno followed clumsily behind her. They’d woken that morning to find the infirmary unlocked. Juno cursed herself for the oversight – of course Eliot knew how to unlock the doors. Though she was comforted by the fact that he couldn’t have gone far, the short walk up to the greenhouse exhausted her. Nearly freezing temperatures. Low atmospheric pressure. She was beginning to feel it, the same heaviness in her body, the swollen face and hands that she’d experienced when first boarding the ship. As she and Poppy searched the greenhouse, Juno found herself stopping constantly to catch her breath, her pulse throbbing shallowly in her fingers.
‘He can’t have gone far,’ Poppy said.
‘I know,’ Juno agreed. She felt as if she was breathing through a straw. ‘Go ahead. I’ll catch up.’
‘We just need to make sure he’s okay.’ Poppy began to run.
In the darkness, the greenhouse was sinister and strange, plants covered in ice, the ground hostile and rough to touch. The cold pricked Juno’s face and leached through the wool of her jacket. It felt as if every morning when she awoke the temperature halved, and now it was so low that water vapour had begun to condense into mists that curled around their ankles.
In the end, it was Poppy who spotted him first. The pale creature curled up amongst the leaves. His skin was white as moonlight, and the cold made the silver hairs all over his body stand on end. He looked as if he wasn’t breathing. Juno only registered Poppy’s scream a second later, by which point she was at Eliot’s side, rolling him onto his back, checking for a pulse and pulling off her scarf to tie around his neck.
‘Is he breathing?’ Juno asked finally.
‘I think so,’ Poppy said, holding her arms under his shoulders, helping him to sit up.
‘Leave me,’ he mumbled, swatting her away.
‘Eliot,’ Poppy said, staring at him, ‘you could die up here. Do you realize how cold it is?’
‘That’s what she wants,’ he told her, his speech slurred in his confusion.
‘Who?’ Poppy asked.
‘Ara,’ he said.
Confusion, or hallucinations, Juno thought. Eliot must be in a worse state than she was.
‘Look, Eliot—’ Poppy’s voice softened just a little. ‘I know it’s hard for you, but we’ve all got to try and keep it together right now. At least until the Russian shuttle comes. Doing things like this—’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Then explain it.’
Eliot squeezed his eyes shut, ‘I c-can’t. You’ll hate me. And you’re right to.’
‘No one hates you,’ Poppy said.
‘You think I know, don’t you? Why she jumped into the Thames. You think I know and I’m not telling you.’ Poppy and Juno exchanged a frightened look. Nobody had mentioned Ara in months.
‘Eliot,’ Juno stepped a little closer to him, leaning on a branch, ‘what are you talking about.’
‘I’m talking about what she told me. The day she died. About the Williamson Inquiry and the Space Agency and Save the Children, all those things.’
‘Okay.’ Juno glanced at Poppy. ‘He’s clearly confused. We need to get him to Fae. And I don’t know if I can carry him.’
‘I know what I’m talking about,’ Eliot insisted, his teeth chattering. ‘She told me that we only have a twenty per cent chance of making it to Terra-Two.’
‘Well, that’s crazy,’ Juno said. ‘Where would she even get a number like that? What gave her that idea?’
‘She said she knew things. Knew people who knew. I don’t know. I didn’t believe her then, but now…’
‘Eliot,’ Poppy’s voice took on a scalding edge, ‘are you telling us that you know why Ara committed suicide?’
Eliot let out a manic bark of a laugh. ‘I know everything. The orbital period of Orlando, its perigee and apogee, I know all the code. I’ve recorded everything I’ve eaten for the past eleven and a half years.’
‘Okay,’ Poppy began, again struggling to get Eliot to stand up. He was in his striped pyjamas, and the pale balls of his toes had taken on the waxy hue that suggested frostbite. ‘Let’s go.’
‘No!’ Eliot pushed Poppy so hard that she almost lost her balance, reeling backwards in surprise.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Poppy. ‘You’re suggesting that Ara jumped because she thought that the mission would fail. But that makes no sense. If that is the reason then why didn’t she just run away? Why did she have to…?’
‘I don’t know,’ Eliot said.
‘Do you think we could have stopped her?’ Juno asked. The question she asked herself every day, why she’d not just grabbed Ara at the BIS and begged her to stay.
‘I don’t know,’ Poppy said. ‘Ara wanted to die. Clearly. I mean – she must have. And if she did, I don’t know if there’s anything we could have done to stop her.’
‘Is that your medical opinion?’ Eliot asked
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘People want to die all the time, Eliot,’ Juno said. ‘It’s a mental illness. Our first, most basic, instinct is to keep ourselves alive. It’s innate, it’s the reason we put clothes on our backs and food in our mouths and make penicillin. When that urge is gone then something is—’
‘Broken?’ Eliot let out a derisive laugh. ‘You think we could have fixed her?’
‘Maybe,’ Juno said, but her voice came out thin. The effort of standing had exhausted her, but when she sat down on the frozen ground she immediately regretted it. It was cold as a mortuary slab.
‘Maybe,’ said Poppy finally. ‘And maybe we’ll never know. We can spend our whole lives guessing and blaming each other but maybe we just have to forgive.’