A low pitched boy's voice calls out in the middle school cafeteria room, filling a starving Joshua with dread: "Hey ghosthead! Catch," An apple slice whizzes just past Joshua's forehead and ends up beaning a girl on the cheek. She shifts around food on her plate in thought. After a moment, she glares at Joshua.
"Leave me alone," She mutters. "I didn't do anything."
"It wasn't me!" Joshua protests. "It was Anderson." The thrower laughs at the girl's reaction. Anderson ticks all the marks of a middle school bully: Tall, muscular, and has a stare that would intimidate even the most unshakable person in school. Many boys would give in under his brown-eyed stare.
"Oh no, I missed," Faux shock covers Anderson's face. He covers his mouth and laughs again. The girl rolls her eyes and goes back to mixing around her peas and carrots.
This kid, Joshua shakes his head. Trying to figure out how to best deal with the generic school bully was always troublesome for him. Ever since Anderson moved to the Capitol and went to school, Anderson poked fun at Joshua's appearance. He kept poking fun at him once he knew it was Joshua's most obvious weakness.
Joshua's father always told him that ignoring Anderson would likely not make him go away contrary to what his wife learned. He would then go on to explain that the bullies in his past would double their efforts upon seeing his unflinching gaze. They knew he was being affected by their taunts. All of their abuse culminated into a moment where his family was truly threatened by them. He took it into his own hands and swung a fist at one of their faces, making contact with it much to the shock of the bullies. Since then, they stayed away from him.
Often, Joshua would wonder about what would happen if he repeated what his father did. Would it feel intensely gratifying to punch his least favorite person in school? He knew and wouldn't mind that he would get in trouble from it. Whenever he would get close to the breaking point, he would tell himself that violence would not sway Anderson onto a peaceful path. That part he drew from his mother.
"Bullies? I had no bullies. I didn't even go to school, son." His mother had said. "The neighborhood was the biggest bully around. Non-violence can be the way to go." After asking him the reason for the question, Joshua changed the subject. Her experiences as a kid did not help him here in his current situation. Neither did the conflicting views his parents had on the bullies.
Unnaturally, Carol did not seem to help him either. Her response merely confirmed his father's viewpoint but framed it in a different way. That day, he learned that the bully had power over him. He never looked at Anderson the same since then. His motives were as clear as day: Deprive Joshua of his social capital through any means necessary.
A shrill ringing fills the air. Joshua scarfs down some of the peas and carrots for a moment He scoops up his bag from the floor and takes the tray to the trash can and throws it away. The white walls offer Joshua nothing to look at as he heads through the doorway into the lengthy school hallways. Teachers he never met sit behind their desks and lecture students in rooms he passes by. Their happiness was of no importance to Joshua, for he did not know them.
"Hey, watch yourself!" A girl calls out somewhere in front of him. He only stops when his cheek collides with a pink bag. Glitter falls off of it onto the floor. In front of the girl is a taller one staring angrily at her. Feeling as though the situation could get worse, Joshua forces himself in between the two girls.
"Whatever happened here needs to stop. The anger needs to stop." Joshua keeps his tone level so it was not going to betray his slightly confused feelings. The glares he receives from both parties burn into him. He gently pushes the two away from each other.
"But that-" The girl behind him protests. She waits for a response from him, then stomps her feet, groans, and trudges away when she does not get it. She glares at both Josh and the taller girl as she passes by. Joshua shrugs off the glare, slipping into the steady stream of students going to class. Whatever the other girl does next is not his concern at the moment.
Joshua's fingers twitch when he begins to climb up a flight of stairs. Both the girls' anger at his interference and Anderson doing what he does best leaves Joshua with all sorts of anxious feelings inside him. Anderson would certainly confront Josh after school if he got under Anderson's skin. Joshua didn't think the girls would do that, but the thought that they could does not leave his mind.
Taking a deep breath, Joshua opens one of the double doors, then steps into the hallway. Cats, dogs, and more exotic Earth animals are plastered on the only open door at the end of the hall to his left. Though uniform, the fluorescent lighting spilling out cuts off whatever negative feelings he had earlier.
The teacher's room Joshua steps into is devoid of students. Sitting in the front corner opposite the door is a large desk with a laptop sitting in the center. In front of it sits a stack of graded papers and a grade sheet next to them. Scrawled in the margins are student names. Joshua's sits towards the bottom where the paper is more wrinkled and hanging over the edge of the table.
All sorts of maps are scattered around the room's white walls. Those with similar typography grouped around the door date back centuries to 2110. Taking up each sheet below the title is a map of a specific non-Earth surface. An inset on the bottom corner shows an unfamiliar coordinate system that the maps are bounded by on all sides. Lining up on the side and bottom margins are more specific coordinates in the specified range. Each label on the map has a coordinate attached to it, an entry in the bottom-center table, and an entry in the legend. Each valley, peak, and dip in the surface maps are well represented. Man-made structures take on a highlighted hue that contrasts with the surface colors. Boundaries between planetary or lunar sections are drawn with a yellow color. Printed on strips of paper below each sheet are text strings familiar to Capitol students:
The Moon: MW-AS056-0-0-3-1
Mercury: MW-AS056-0-0-1
Mars: MW-AS056-0-0-4
Joshua always finds himself looking at the maps. The contours of the Moon's surface map has long since been burned into his mind. He familiarized himself with the differences between the moon base and its much more complex cousin on Mars. He licks his lips as his gaze sweeps over the Mars central complex. Slowly, he imagines what it is like to be on the surface for the first time.
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Anticipation swells inside me as the blueish hue of the console in front of me reads successful touchdown on a planet I've only heard in the news. Beyond the curved window stretches a rust red rocky landscape. Harsh winds blow across the land, pelting the side of the craft with sand particles and setting off some collision sensors. With a tap of a button to my side, I silence the klaxons going off around me.
Carol, my crewmate, shifts her tall swivel chair to face her own console. Her watchful gaze once plastered on the desolate landscape turns to the very systems that got us here. Our small FTL cruiser, the Blackhawk Mk. 1, was a proper feat of engineering back when FTL was on the rise and hadn't replaced generic rocket boosters. The pamphlet we were given by the trader boasted space for three crew members, thrust that would get out of Terras III's atmosphere into orbit in a minute, and an FTL drive that would max out at a blazing 1.01c. Naturally, Carol ripped it out and replaced it with a more contemporary engine. She gives me a soft smile and shuts down the engines. The whine of the life support systems fills the air with a tone I never liked.
"Time to go," she says. She disappears into a back room. I scour the ship's status. A computer tells me things I can already see. Though rocky, we found the flattest stretch of land to touch down on. Lone peaks break the red-brown horizon on all sides around us. The telemetry data we received from the onboard computers merely affirms that the place is flat with cold, unfeeling precision. I jot down the external temperature into a notepad to my left.
With my job done, I enter the back room. This is usually the worst part of the missions for me. Falling into Martian orbit and landing was the easy bit. The staging and planet walk that remained made me feel a little nervous. I look over at the wall to my right and see space suits that look like they were ripped from the Apollo 11 mission. Without any issue, my copilot takes a suit off the wall and holds it in front of me. My shaky hands grasp the front zipper and try to force it down, only for it to stop down toward the center.
Oh.
I wiggle the zipper up, then force it down to the bottom, exposing a smooth and bulky interior that is as white as the suit itself is. I can't help but look at the arrays of sensors weaved into the back of the interior. Begrudgingly, I slip my arms through the bulky sleeves with relative ease. Much to my surprise, the sensors aren't felt on my back. What is felt is the weight of the life support systems as Carol lets go of the suit. I gasp for air as my chest crashes onto the cold steel floor. The weight on my back binds me to the floor for a moment.
Okay... okay... you got this. I shake my head a little, upset that I had let this happen. I grasp the floor and shift myself to a kneeling position while ignoring the pain of my arm muscles. I catch my breath after what feels like forever before shakily standing up, face red with embarrassment. She gathers up two helmets and gives me one. Remembering my training, I slip it over my head, then secure it to the rest of my clothing using zippers and velcro flaps. After twisting it counterclockwise, cool air floods the area around my face. I breathe in the slightly stale tasting air and look up to flash Carol a smile. Dangling in front of my gaze is a pair of white gloves and boots. Internal padding in the boots leaves my feet feeling as if they are resting on top of the bathroom rug at home. The gloves offer no such comfort with their slightly stiff and leathery feel.
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The weight lessens slightly when Carol's glove firmly clasps around mine. Whether it was Carol doing what she does best, or it was the confidence swelling inside me, I did not know. Slowly, she leads me out of the cockpit and into the main hallway. Though small, the central room we pass through is inviting. A half-finished game of chess is sitting in the center of the table. Two timers have long since been paused. Adjacent to the table against the wall is a soft couch. A stuffed black Eastern dragon, who we call the guardian of the ship, perches on one of the arms. Its red eyes are turned onto the two bedroom doors in the ship.
I follow Carol through the room, patting the dragon on the head for good measure before stepping through the back door. The hall here is slightly wider. A console on either end shows internal and external pressures and temperatures. To the right of the back console is a silver-colored lever bolted onto the wall. Carol looks back at me before she pulls it. The door behind us closes and locks with a clicking sound. After a moment, the display on the wall and one toward the bottom corner of my gaze both read the room pressure dropping.
After a moment or two, a sound of pneumatic hissing fills the air in front of me just before external light floods my field of vision. At first, the light is blinding, so I do the first thing that pops to mind: shut my eyes. As if on a whim, I press forward onto the gently sloping platform until I register that I am on a flat surface. I poke the ground to the left with my boot, then step onto it. Carol's hand falls onto my shoulder. She gives it a rub and smiles.
"You'll get used to it," She says with a giggle. I crack open an eye and find that the blinding light is gone. The second one follows suit. The land around me is as desolate as it was when I was in the ship, if not a little more daunting to my eyes. Ankle high rocks litter the landscape surrounding the ship. We were fortunate enough to land on one of the areas relatively free of rocks. Without much aid from Carol, I spot small landable areas in the direction of the sun's travel. Somehow, they evaded topographic scans.
Red dust pelts my helmet at the smallest of gusts. Absentmindedly, I brush away dust caked around the vents on the sides of the support unit. Sans all of the rocks, the surface is slightly loose to walk on. Every step was a drain on my mind. Is the step in front of me safe? Are the rocks I will step on firmly on the ground? Will I lose my footing if I put more pressure on my front leg? My back leg? What will I do if I do fall? What if- no. Josh, focus on the planet.
With every step, I mutter "focus" as if it would somehow quiet the small, cynical, and dark voice at the back of my mind. Hearing its feeble protestations fills me with a sense of self control and empowerment. I decide that my strides aren't covering as much ground as I wanted to, so I lengthen them a little. Behind me, the ship gets smaller and smaller. What I don't expect though, is the desolation of the land to strike.
There was nothing around me. Besides Carol, no other living being appeared to be here. A cry for help would fall onto no ears. This realization sends a shiver up my spine and emboldens the cold voice within my head. Nobody is here Josh, it taunts. Carol will not save you here.
"Shut up..." I frustratedly mutter under my breath. I kick some sand, only to be rewarded by it blowing back and hitting my legs.
None of this is real, Josh, It's cold words stop me in my tracks. The landscape around me is unbroken, uncorrupted and highly consistent with what I learned in my readings on the planet.
They are mere books, Joshua. Books contain lies, The voice continues. You aren't going to believe a dusty, outdated technology, right? Why should you? A book is as true as the author says it is. I ignore the voice. I bend down and grab a fistful of sand. It feels harder than Terras' beach sand. The grains are larger, more inconsistent in shape, and heavier than I originally expected. A sample I take off the vents is consistent with what is on my hand. I pocket some for later analysis and press on.
None of this is real, The voice says, louder. I shake my head in defiance. Wake up.
"No," I reply coldly. "You can't make me." I await a reply, making it in the form of kicking over a rock to check the underside of it. I brush aside sand in the imprint the rock made. Predictably, more sand is underneath it. "See? This is real."
No. You are a delusional boy, The voice taunts. I grit my teeth, fighting back rage. You lust for things you do not and cannot have. Wake the hell up.
"No," I repeat, more forcefully. "You cannot 'wake me up' as you say. Don't even try."
Yes, The voice says with a tone of finality to it. It is not my parent, so why should I listen? Defiantly, I move to take another soil sample but stop as I gaze into the hole I took from. Flooring seems to have covered it up. With a growl, I scratch the floor to get through it.
"Carol! Come over here!" I shout as I try to pry the flooring away from the hole. I hear no response. I move to get back into a standing position, only for the voice to stop me once more. A feeling of dread eclipses the awe of the planet I once had. I realized that it was right.
None of this is real. Give the hell up and wake up.
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Joshua jolts into the present day with a gasp. Impulsively, he stands and whirls to face the one person that dares stir him from his daydreaming: Ms. Winter, his teacher. His face, red with anger, contorts into a look of confusion as he sees what stares back at him. For the first time in his life, he sees worry and fear in her eyes. Her bottom lip quivers a bit which further dampens the anger inside of him.
"D-Daydreaming again, Joshua?" She stammers. Whatever she had seen from him has left a spooked look on her face.
"Y-yeah I was, ma'am. Sorry," Joshua casts his gaze to the floor.
"J-Joshua... don't scare me like that." She shakes her head. She takes a moment to calm down. "You... you're still allowed to have an active imagination in this room. J-just... t-try not to yell at me a-again. I-I don't want to attract the neighboring teachers, you know? E-especially Mr. Creek."
"I-I... yelled at you?" He asks, shock now crossing his face. H-how could I?
"Y-yes..." She says quietly. "I-I had to close the door, Joshua."
"I'm s-sorry ma'am," Joshua repeats.
"I-I forgive you. I'd let you off with a warning, but you-"
"Are a free thinker, I know. Free thinkers shouldn't punish others for thinking differently," he says. The change of tone in Winter's voice brings him relief. She subverted his expectations by not punishing him as well.
"T-to change the subject to lighter tones... w-what did you dream of?" She asks, swallowing the last of her fear.
Joshua blinks. "Mars. Mars and how it would be if I was to... step onto the surface and explore."
"What did you find out?"
"Emotionally?"
"That would be a start, Josh."
"Anxiousness," Joshua shrugs. "Anticipation, mostly. Dealing with my inconsistent mind as well. I am not sure if I'd feel all those things, or if I'm conditioned to believe that. Could be real, but could also be... fake. I'll never know."
"Ah ah ah, remember the first rule?" The teacher jabs a finger over to a poster hanging above the whiteboard. In plain block letters over a white background is a poster titled Five Rules for Classroom Students:
1: Never say never
2: Try not to be tardy
3: Learn to recognize your shortcomings
4: Do not fear asking for help
5: Respect other people's individualities
Don't be sorry, Joshua, He thinks, keeping his gaze on the poster. His teacher's words continue to leave a mark on him regardless of what they are. Only his parents and Carol have this effect on him in his life. Don't... be sorry.
"You should run off to your desk now. Sorry to cut this... short." His teacher says. A glance at the clock confirms Joshua's suspicions. He heads to the center-most desk and sits in it. The desk is spacious with room for an open textbook, an open notebook, and a few pencils towards the top. Joshua drags out a large textbook from the cubby below and sets it down on the desk. It wasn't something he had seen before with its glossy white cover, thick size, and images of feathered and furred alien beasts circled around a planet that looks remarkably like their own: Medium in size, mostly water, and with frozen poles. The northern pole seems mostly non-existent on the image, much unlike the frozen wastelands far to the north. The image of the planet itself feels oddly familiar to Joshua.
The room around Joshua does not answer any questions in his mind about the planet. There are no maps to match the landmasses to, nor are there any other images of the planet in question hanging on the walls. A quizzical look to the teacher earns him a soft smile. You'll find out, Her gaze seems to say to him.
Will I now? He slouches in his chair as he runs his hand over the eerily smooth cover. Flatness appears to be in a school system that favors slightly raised covers wherever images lie. His once tame headspace now teems with the anxiety of change. Physically, Josh keeps it out of the sights of students filing in. If they would stop to listen, they would hear the gentle sounds of a foot tapping on the ground. Joshua shifting in his chair becomes a coded cry for help internally. However small, times were changing for him.
Over the growing din, the teacher clears her throat. In that brief respite, Joshua shifts into a more proper sitting position. He shifts around the back of his chair a little. The boy takes a moment to unzip his bag and drag out a fairly thick and divided notebook. He opens up the middle section, then flips to a blank page. Joshua produces a pencil from the back pocket of the bag and sets it down toward the back of the desk.
His gaze catches the teacher crossing over to the front of the central row of desks. She moves her gaze around the room. "May, pay attention," Her eyes narrow at a girl near the back corner. May and her adjacent friend cut their discussion. May glowers at the teacher.
"I see only three of you discovered the books in your desks. Good job," The teacher brushes her hair with her hand, then shakes her head. "Just keep in mind that it is only for the week. By all means, take the books back to your homes, but do not forget to return them next cycle."
Next... unit? Joshua thinks. What can it possibly be? He rubs at his chin. The way the Capitol middle schools had their systems set up greatly confused him at the start. Elementary school was just the basics for the whole day: Math, science, reading, and writing. The students had more freedom in middle school but at the cost of student confusion and, for Joshua, a less cohesive learning experience. His choice reigned for half of the day. The other half was down to what the teacher felt like teaching. When the unit bores him, Joshua yearns for freedom. Today was not like those days. Today, he found himself staring curiously at the front of a textbook for a change. Anxiousness for his future turns to excitement for the unit before he even knows what it is.
The teacher surveys the room one last time. A final clearing of her throat quiets down rouge talkers in the class. She crosses to her desk chair, pulls it to the center of the room, then sits down in it. She rests her hands on her lap as her gaze slowly sweeps across the room.
Her voice is softer and more subdued as she speaks. "Who here knows where their parents came from?" Every hand in the room shoots up. "Good. Keep them up if you know where your grandparents came from." Murmurs spread through the room as most hands lower. Joshua's raised hand falls onto the book. His eyebrows are furrowed.
Where is she going with this exactly? He thinks. He looks to the student to his left. They are as skinny as he is, with the same confusion in their eyes as Joshua's own.
"Students," She continues. "We are going to learn about something normally... disallowed by the Queen." She locks onto the gazes of shocked students. The most talkative students in the back of the room are silenced by the teacher's words. She lets the words hang in the air for a little while. Her gaze remains plastered on their faces.
"We are going to learn about a small planet called... Earth."