No amount of board games, chatter, or food not as bad as she expected had stopped her remembering Mom’s face as it dipped under the road. Jace tried to keep her optimistic, but his efforts waned toward the end of the trip. He was only trying to help, but the reminders were everywhere. They were on the faces of other passengers, in the low murmur of conversation between tears. They revealed themselves in every announcement from the pilots.
You’ll be at an Elshan refugee camp for an unknown amount of time, they said, and the attack isn’t limited to Delta. The entire Igador system is under siege. Well, except for Sinos. Raiders weren’t ravaging their own planet.
Everything over the last week served as a steady reminder that Tayel let her mom die. She may not have obliterated the road, but she’d let go and ran away. It was her fault.
The descent into Elsha’s atmosphere rocked the shuttle with turbulence. They landed after a delay due to a problem at the docks or something like that — she wasn’t paying attention. She released her harness and followed the rest of the crowd toward the shuttle doors while Jace opened and closed his beak a few times, a look of intense concentration ruffling the soft feathers around his eyes.
“Are you, um, excited at all?” he finally asked. “About being on a new world?”
“A little,” she said.
Mom once said she wanted to be there the first time Tayel stepped onto another planet. Sinos didn’t count, she’d said, not unless you consider being born somewhere a vacation. You think those flexi-screens are beautiful? Just wait.
Mom. She was too good to die.
Tayel swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “How about you?”
“I’ve been on other planets,” Jace said. “To visit my grandparents mostly. I wonder if they’re okay.”
“I’m sure they are.”
“And my parents…”
Tayel stopped behind the wall of refugees while the attendants prepared to open the door.
“I trust Otto. He’ll find them,” Jace said.
“You think so?”
“Yes. And it’s better to think that than mope,” he said pointedly. “I’d rather be happy than keep thinking the worst has happened.”
Tayel scowled. “Jace, I watched my mom die. The worst has happened.”
“You watched her fall.”
“I let her fall.”
“You saved yourself.” He broke eye contact. “You did everything you could. Stop beating yourself up about it.”
She’d accepted what happened, but maybe he hadn’t. He didn’t see his parents die, so he had reason to expect their safety. It wasn’t fair to dampen his hopes just because she’d lost hers. She had to try harder, for him, even if it felt impossible. He was all she had left. She was where she always wanted to be — in a new world — but other than Jace being alive, she didn’t have much to be happy about. It was hard to imagine what she would do now or what her life would become.
Stifling her sorrow became a little easier as the shuttle door slid open. The crowd shuffled forward onto the ramp, and bright, golden sunlight warmed her pale skin. Sunlight. Real sunlight. As much as she wanted to look at the yellow sphere, the pain became impossible to bear whenever her gaze drew close. But she tried again and again and marveled at how warm it made her.
The sky was blue and vast, unhindered by the underside of a road or clouds of yellow murk. An emerald-green valley peppered with white tents stretched out from the docks for miles. Castle Aishan towered in the distance, a revered historical landmark and government building she’d studied once in school. Behind it, mountains rose up from the horizon, their colors faded slightly by distance as they would be in a painting. No buildings, no neon lights — just open space and towering forests on the outskirts. Never mind that those forests were on fire.
Plumes of black smoke rose from the tree line behind the docks. It could have been raiders, so armed men and women stood guard near the shuttles. It also could have been a forest fire. Though worrying, the smell of pine-tinged smoke mixed with the scent of — what was it? — grass — fascinated Tayel. She reached down to rub her hand over the dark wood planks which comprised the dock. They were rough and scratchy under her fingers. The stuff felt nothing like any surface in the Under Sector. She let loose a satisfied sigh.
Jace watched her with a mulling expression. “Feel any better?”
A little. “A lot better. Sorry I’ve been so miserable to be around.” She forced a smile.
He nodded. “You’ve been through a lot, Tayel. It’s nothing to apologize for. But I don’t want you to fake being happy — it’s not working.”
Damn his perception. She rubbed the back of her head. “It is nice here, though.”
They fell into one of the lines moving toward the registration stations on the far end of the docks. It would be a long wait. She crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and did a double take at the group who walked by.
A handful of stern-faced dock workers cleared the way for a dark haired, dark skinned young woman who couldn’t have been much older than Tayel. She wore Sinosian clothes. The tanned leather, loose fit, and ragged edges for aesthetic were unmistakable. Mom had some tunics from the planet still, from all those years ago. They’re mementos, honey bun, she’d explained. Mom would never throw them away, despite never wearing them.
People eyed the young woman with scrutiny. It was easy to liken the garb for a raider’s, and none of these refugees needed the reminder. Tayel certainly didn’t. She couldn’t understand what someone from Sinos was doing at a refugee camp on Elsha anyway. Raiders left their planet’s small villages alone. Maybe the clothes were hand-me-downs or bought from a specialty shop.
Right behind the Sinosian, another pair of dock workers escorted a man with short black hair and narrow eyes. A straight line scar cut through his eyebrow. His trench coat cracked with lines of burnt leather at the bottom, and though he stood tall, he hung his head and walked in long, plodding steps. His escorts stopped him just a few feet away, and at the close distance, Tayel could make out the intricate details on one of the worker’s bows. Antiquated, but traditional for a planet like Elsha.
“Sir,” the bowman said. “Any of these lines will do for registration at camp.”
“But I told you: I’m not a refugee!” the short-haired man shouted.
His words came out short and choppy and ended on high, questioning notes. He’d come from one of the core planets with an accent that thick. Tayel had never met anyone from the core empire. She’d been told her dad came from there, but she only had memories of him. Sparse ones.
The bowman stood taller. “Sir, you have no papers, no identification, and your accent’s imperial. You’re far from home in a war-torn system. You’re a refugee whether you like it or not.”
“So send me home,” the imperial growled.
“Sorry, sir, you’ll just have to follow protocol.” The bowman signaled to his partner, and they marched away, lost in the crowd in a moment.
The imperial’s shoulders tensed. Tayel’s did, too. She’d seen that look before, common as it was in so many of the bullies who went to undercity schools. She wasn’t ready to run. Or fight. Despite her worry, the man sighed, letting his arms dangle at his side. He shook his head slowly, the way Mom sometimes would when looking over bills, and shuffled to stand in line behind Tayel and Jace. He squeezed his temples.