The first people get in. A small ledge sticks out in the center of each box, similar to a bicycle seat. Straps pull down over each person’s chest and waist, securing them to the box before a thin, transparent, plastic door seals them inside.
“See?” Colonel Martin calls to the group of nervous shipborns as he loads up the first round of Earthborn scientists into the auto-shuttle. “Nothing to be afraid of. ”
After the first row of individual compartments is filled, the next one drops down automatically. My people move forward nervously, hesitant to trust another ship, one they don’t know.
Just as some of my people draw closer to the auto-shuttle, I notice how others slowly separate from the group, stepping back. Their eyes keep going to the left, past the trees and the lake, where the ruins are. Where their home is.
Hours go by as the shuttle’s loaded. Amy stands beside me, watching, an unreadable expression on her face. I touch her hand, but she jerks it away. A worrisome feeling I can’t name starts to gnaw at the inside of my stomach. She . . . she couldn’t be thinking about leaving me, could she?
When there are two spots left in the rockets, Colonel Martin stops taking volunteers.
There’s a roaring in my ears. Something’s wrong, but I can’t quite pinpoint it.
Colonel Martin walks over to the communication building, where Amy and her mother and I are standing.
Oh, no.
He holds his hand out to Amy’s mother. “It’s time,” he says.
She nods.
They both turn to Amy.
“It’s time to go,” they tell her.
And then I realize: they want to send Amy back.
49: AMY
I knew this was coming.
As soon as Dad started talking about who would stay and who would go, I knew what he expected of me.
They want me to go.
I glance at Elder. A look of dawning horror grows on his face as he realizes what Dad means to do.
“Amy. ” Dad’s voice is stern. “Come on. ”
I hesitate.
“It’s not optional this time. I’m not giving you a choice. You’re going on the auto-shuttle. ” He pauses, searching my eyes. “It’s for your own safety. ”
I step forward.
Elder makes a sound as if he’s being choked, and he lunges toward me, but I’m already out of his reach.
All the sounds around me fade to background as I approach the massive auto-shuttle. I know what I must do, I just don’t know how to do it. I can see the people inside their individual transport boxes, staring at us through the clear, thick plastic that seals them inside. The little boxes don’t look comfortable, but the journey won’t be long. Just a short trip up to orbit, then to a space station. In a few days, another ship will arrive, and it will basically zap everyone waiting at the station back to Earth.
This—all of us, packing ourselves up into boxes and returning to space—feels like running away.
I don’t like that—it’s as if the aliens have won. They didn’t want us here, and they chased us off their planet.
I feel dull and senseless as we stop in front of the transport boxes. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Elder. He looks pained and wounded.
My heart aches for him. I didn’t even tell him what I planned to do. But it’s too late now.
“I’ll go first,” my mother says, stepping forward. Dad nods in agreement. Mom looks up at him, an expression I can’t read on her face. “Let me tell Amy something. ” When he doesn’t move, she adds, “Girl talk. ”