Page 9 of Tethered
I shower, smack around the walls in the bathroom until a hidden panel depresses and reveals a closet of neatly organised clothes. It must be extremely well ventilated because everything is perfectly dry and gives off the faintest hint of laundry detergent. At the foot of the little space, beneath rows of neatly folded t-shirts, is a lidded chute that I assume is for laundry. At least I hope so, as I shove yesterday’s clothing into it and listen for signs of incineration. But I hear only a faint whoosh. I pull on another identical outfit that’s too long on me and tackle my hair half-heartedly. With my wrist so fucked up, I don’t manage much more than a surface level detangling with the fingertips of my right hand.
Then I curl up on the sofa until the captain deigns to visit me in my gilded cage. As I wait, my mind wanders. If I think about how much I miss Vee, I’ll lose it.
Instead, I try to think about inconsequential things. Shows I have to catch up on, recipes I want to try when I get home, possibly signing up for a gym so I’ll never be thishelplessagain. I’ve taken more painkillers, downed with a bottle of water that came on the cart, but I’m still cranky and anxious. I’m used to being busy, working with my hands all day. The cart disappeared whilst I was asleep, or I might occupy myself with eating.
Against my will, I try to picture what Vee might be doing. I hope he’s distracted rather than anxious. He’s not a nervous flier but an interplanetary flight at ten years is madness.Is he scared, or worried about where I am?
When Tanisira shows up—thankfully not long after I’m dressed—she takes one look at my face and steps to the side. “We’ll get some fresh air.”
I snort, sliding past her before she can change her mind. “Fresh.”
When I step out into the passageway, I realise just how heavily the cabins are soundproofed—the air is suddenly flooded with all the noises I hadn’t been hearing. It’s not a cacophony by far, but I finally feel as though I’m on a ship. Pipes clank, tech beeps, fans whir, engines rush. The lighting must mimic that of a day on Telluria because although we’re travelling through a vacuum, a soft, golden hue brightens the passageway. It looks natural. The lighting in the captain’s cabin had done the same, but I assumed it was a preset.
There’s still no one around. I wonder if that’s on purpose.
“This way,” Tanisira gestures.
I follow behind at first, but my curiosity wins out and I step up alongside her. We head towards a lift at the end of the passageway. I’d seen it when I first slunk onboard but figured I was more likely to be caught if I used it. Despite myself, I huff in dry amusement. So naive of me to think I could sneak on, grab Vee and take off.
The lift has two cameras in it, whereas I had seen none in the stairways, so it looks like I’m not a complete moron after all. Tanisira holds her wrist up to the pad and shifts away from me. We stand awkwardly apart, silent as it drops so gently, I don’t even know we’ve moved until the doors open again. I decide to strike up a conversation. Maybe I’ll learn something new. Maybe she’ll let something slip. Maybe I can distract her and run. Where, I don’t know. Clearly I’m terrible at plans.
“How did you catch me?”
“When I started the engines, Kit did the last safety sweep. I expected to get the all clear—instead, she picked up a heat signature where there shouldn’t have been one.”
I can’t tell if this angers her, amuses her or something else. It makes me grimace. “And here I thought I was being really stealthy. Did you and Kit have a good laugh?”
“She’s AI,” the captain replies drily. “She doesn’t laugh.”
“Not yet, anyway,” I mutter.
She doesn’t grace this with a response. Something occurs to me in the ensuing silence and after a lifetime of raising a kid with no filter, I blurt, “It’s funny that your AI is called Kit; there was an English playwright in the 1500s called—”
“Kit Marlowe,” Tanisira interjects. “It’s not my AI. She’s the ship’s.”
I falter a little. “So…Dominik named her?”
She nods, a small frown coasting across her lips. It’s gone within seconds, no trace of anything beyond disinterest on her face. I don’t know what to think about the possibility that Dominik named his AI after my namesake. He was never into literature—neither one of us were. But my mother was, and she liked the controversial possibility that Christopher Marlowe could be the real talent behind Shakespeare. All those years of listening to her have left me with a lot of useless knowledge but a great vocabulary.
I focus on the—very, very real—doubt I saw on Tanisira’s face. Can it be that she’s starting to believe me? Maybe Dominik did it to piss me off, maybe it wasn’t intentional at all. Either way, it works in my favour. Hope springs within me and I have to stifle it before it bursts out through my chest like a root. Maybe I’ll get to see Vee sooner than I thought. I’ll just keep chipping at Tanisira.
My head has been on a swivel the whole time, but we don’t come across a single soul, let alone my son.
“Are we just going to walk the halls?”
“That would be pointless, wouldn’t it?”
She doesn’t say it unkindly but it kind of feels like a challenge anyway. “I’m surprised you’re even allowing me to walk around like this, out in the open, with no restraints.”
“You seem to think I’m some kind of jailor.” Tanisira turns to face me as she says this, and a little furrow appears between herbrows. “I’m keeping you confined for the safety of my crew and my passengers.”
I blink. “You think I’mdangerous? Me?”
As if to prove my point, I stumble in the borrowed boots. I catch myself in time to see Tanisira’s outstretched hand fall back to her side. Putting some distance between us, I focus my attention ahead, perennially grateful that my skin is too dark to show my embarrassment.
I still see her shaking her head, minutely, in my peripheral—but we seem to have arrived at our destination, and she doesn’t comment. The door slides open, and she ushers me through it. I’m not prepared for what awaits me.
The doorway opens into a literal haven. I gasp, head falling back to take in the sight before me. The room must stretch the full height of the ship and takes up half as much space in width. It’s covered, wall to wall, in greenery. Trees that soar above, branches thick with vibrant leaves and blooming flowers completely cover the overhead. I don’t know enough about botany, but I recognise a few weeping willows dotted around, creating lush nooks behind their curtains.
