Just keep running. Don’t look back. I repeated the mantra under my breath as each step took me further from the prison of my parents’ mansion. Just keep running. Don’t look back. 

My backpack bounced on my shoulders, full of all the valuables I could nick without drawing attention. It wasn’t much, just a few bits of jewelry and some electronics, but it should be enough to pawn for passage offworld. Hopefully.

 I squinted into the western sky, trying to make out the hexagonal frame of the Gate waiting for me at the edge of space. The distant artificial satellite was dwarfed by the golden gas giant Argus to the north, glowing brightly as our star shone through its turbulent atmosphere. 

 Smaller houses than mine passed in a blur, their hedges and lawns kept green by a permanent summer. I hoped nobody would be out so early in the morning, too early even for gardeners and lawn sprinklers.

 The sound of an electric engine and rubber tires on the pavement behind me turned my exhilaration into dread. I slowed to a walk, and pulled up the hood on my pink sweatshirt, hoping whoever it was would pass me by. 

 No luck; the vehicle slowed as it pulled up alongside me. I kept walking, head down, trying to ignore the sound of a window rolling down. “Pretty flashy outfit for a thief,” a deep voice called out. 

 I dared to look; the terran man behind the wheel was unfamiliar, and his truck clearly didn’t belong to Goldmeadow security. “I’m not a thief,” I told him, which wasn’t technically a lie.

 The driver only chucked in response. “Whatever, kid. Need a ride?”

 I stopped walking, out of breath already, and only a few hundred metres from where I started. “Where are you headed?” I asked cautiously.

 “The only place worth going to on this shithole moon,” he replied. “Port City.”

 I cautiously approached his truck, resting my hands on the window frame. “You can take me there? Like, all the way to the elevator?” The interior smelled like smoke and sweat. I wrinkled my nose.

 He shrugged affably. “Most of the way, at least. I have an errand to run near city center. Now, are you gettin’ in or what?”

 I couldn’t afford to waste such an opportunity; besides, the man seemed genuinely friendly. “Yeah, I’m coming.” I opened the passenger door, paused to brush crumbs off the fabric seat, then climbed in and stowed my bag safely in my lap. The door locked as I shut it behind me.

 The truck began rolling down the road again, picking up speed until we were racing down the avenue. Suddenly, my crazy escape plan seemed like it could work after all. 

 The driver was a stocky unmodded terran with closely cropped black hair and sandy brown skin. He wore grey coveralls, though they were undone down to his waist with the sleeves tied around his hips, and a stained white tank top. His hairy arms rippled with muscles as he turned onto the main road.

 “Name’s Hank,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “You?”

 “It’s... not important,” I said evasively.

 Hank raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re a runaway then?”

 I fidgeted with the strings on my hoodie, avoiding eye contact. 

 “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you back to your parents.” He gave me a rough pat on the shoulder which I took to be reassuring. I tried not to wince. 

 We watched the mansions go by in silence for a while before he spoke again. “How old are you? I can never tell with you lot.”

 “You lot?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

 “Bastards,” he clarified.

 This time I did wince, but I pushed his comment to the back of my mind. “Today’s my sixth birthday.”

 Hank whistled. “Six revolutions! What’s that in local years, sixteen? When I was your age I already had a job.”

 I nodded and smiled politely. Between the state of his truck and his chosen attire, he was probably telling the truth. I couldn’t think of anything polite to reply with, so I just shrugged, and he went on, unperturbed.

 “Well what do you wanna do when you get out there into the great big galaxy? Gonna be some rich fuck’s pet catboy?” 

 “I’m nobody’s pet,” I asserted through gritted teeth. “Not now, not ever.” 

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

 My serious tone only seemed to amuse him. “What then? Gonna be a big CEO?”

 “Whatever I end up doing, It will be my choice,” I declared resolutely, hoping that would be the end of the uncomfortable conversation.

 Hank chuckled as if I had just made a joke. “Sure thing kid. We’re coming up on the perimeter wall here in a second.” He blindly felt around in the back seat with one hand, then passed me a worn leather jacket. It, too, smelled like smoke and sweat. “Put this over your head and crouch down. The gate scanners should miss you.”

 I looked at the smelly old jacket doubtfully, and hesitated to take in my surroundings. This close to the edge of Goldmeadow there weren’t mansions, but rows of apartment blocks stretching down identical side streets. Cracks in the concrete distinguished the buildings from one another, along with colorful murals depicting mountains, forests, and rivers.

 Hank looked pointedly at the towering green border wall and its manned guardpost. “Or don’t, and security clocks you leaving. Your choice, and all that.”

  Some choice. I covered my head, and tucked my head between my knees. The floor mat was as dirty as the rest of the interior, littered with crumbs and food wrappers, and matted with dirt. I missed my maid already.

 Hiding under the coat gave me plenty of time to think back on my hasty escape. I wondered who would notice my absence first. Probably my tutor, waking me for morning lessons... or maybe they’d give me a day off of lessons for my birthday. Maybe it would be the butler bringing me breakfast in bed. She’d throw open the drapes and pull back the covers, only to find a pillow in my place.

Who was I kidding? The first one into my room would be my parents’ manager with the contract, pushing me to sign my life away to Belivita, just like they did at my age.

 “Alright, kid, we’re past the range of the scanners. You can sit up now.” Hank lifted the coat from my head, allowing the soft glow of Argus to wake me from thoughts of ancient history.

In front of us, the pavement stretched on in an endlessly straight line. To the left and right, walls of thick grass grew so tall I couldn’t see over the blades even from inside the truck, though in the distance it looked like it got shorter. My fingertips tapped restlessly on my knee. 

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hank glancing at me. He let the silence stretch on uncomfortably, before asking “Is this your first time outside the walls?”

I nodded. “It’s very... grassy?” The height of the blades began to taper off as we raced by, until the stems rose only a few centimetres. To the north and south I could see the vast field clearly to the horizon, rippling gently in the pitiful breeze. It was unbearably quiet, just the hum of the engine and the faint noise of tires on road. “I thought there would be other people here.”

Hank laced his hands behind his head and reclined his seat, letting the truck drive itself. “Most people on Argus Two live in Goldmeadow or Port City,” he explained. 

As he spoke I noticed a wide machine rolling through the field along the border between the short and tall grasses, throwing cut stems into a gigantic hovering hopper waiting beside it. A moment later and we passed into more of the mature stalks, cutting off my view. “Where does it all go?” I wondered aloud.

“Didn’t they teach you this shit in whatever passes for a school in the rich fuck district?” He leered at me. “Ah, sorry. Guess your condition makes you a little slow.”

For a moment I was just bewildered, and the words fell from my mouth before I could remember to be tactful. “Do you think being genodivergent is a ‘condition’?”

Hank roared with laughter, leaving me to awkwardly wait for him to compose himself. “No, I’ve met Bastards before! Kid, I know who your parents are. What they are. You look just like them. I guess most of us just assumed you were a little uh...” he sucked air through his teeth “retarded.”

I suppressed the urge to vomit. Well, it was better than racism. Kind of. “I’m not,” I said forcefully. “My tutor just didn’t teach me anything about Argus Two. Can we get back to talking about the sweetgrass please?”

“Sure, whatever. Kids can’t take a joke these days.” His shoulders still shook with aftershocks of laughter as he spoke. “There are huge factories just over the horizon that process the sweetgrass into syrup to be put into all kinds of food. It gets packed onto trains and sent to Port City, then piped up to the gate station to be sent... I don’t know, somewhere else.”

 No wonder I never learned about the rest of our world; it was somehow even more boring than Goldmeadow. “The whole moon? Just for sweetgrass?”

 “Just the part with land: A hundred million square kilometers, give or take, in a strip around the equator. The rest is all water,” he clarified. He sighed, and took on a wistful air. “It wasn’t always like this, though. A few hundred years ago this place looked a lot like Terra... you did learn about the motherworld right?”

 I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Yes, my tutor did cover humanity’s history.”

 “Then you know what made it special. Liquid oceans, breathable atmosphere, continents with varied climates, vibrant biodiversity... Argus Two had a self-sustaining population and a thriving tourism industry.” He paused pointedly.

 “Is this the setup to a joke?” I asked suspiciously. There was no way an earthlike planet would be turned into such a boring, boring farm world.

 The jovial creases in Hanks’s face smoothed as his demeanor turned cold. “Somebody bought it, then decided it would be more profitable to have it stripped of minerals and remodeled into an endless lawn.”

 So, not a joke then. I was almost afraid to tug the thread further. Still, curiosity spurred me on. “Where did the people who lived there go?”

 He stared up at the gate station wistfully. “Those who had money relocated. The rest of them got jobs here, working in the factories, or taking care of the rich fucks.” 

I shifted in my seat awkwardly. “I’m... I’m sorry for what happened to your world?”

Hank didn’t respond, face stern as he stared out the window. After a moment he pushed a button on the steering wheel, and electronic music boomed through the speakers. 

That explained why he was so mean at first. He was just as trapped as I would have been, had I lacked the courage to leave. Luckily, I wasn’t about to let myself get stuck like that. I was going to get to Port City, buy my way aboard the first ship offworld, and never look back. 

The city was still a ways off, and Hank didn’t seem open to more conversation. I rested my head against the window, watching the ripples dance lazily through the sweetgrass. The adrenaline of my escape had worn off, and the missed hours of sleep had me yawning. I was sure Hank wouldn’t mind if I had a little nap.