Planet Z

Chapter 1

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

They being Commander Penn who, undoubtedly, was just pulling his usual scare tactics. I’m not usually phased by Commander Penn, or any of the Commanders, for that matter, but with the Ship Date approaching quickly I was starting to give slightly more consideration to their remarks. Beale, on the other hand, was losing it over Commander Penn’s threat of the day.

We were being escorted from the training center back to our cells. We’re not allowed to speak in transition, or often at all really, but I don’t need to hear Beale’s words to understand him. I can sense his worry by his uneven breathing, the slight reflection of sweat on his pale forehead. It’s okay, Beale. I wanted to grab his rough hand and whisper that in his ear, but I might be lying and I am not a liar. Commander Penn was not a liar either, just a self-righteous jerk, but Beale didn’t need confirmation of the fears Commander Penn worked so hard to plant in us.

Beale is still fairly new to The Facility, but I have more memories here than not. I suppose that’s why I am so desensitized to most of it. That’s what this place does to you.

I make eye contact with Beale as we approach the cells. Being in alphabetical order, Beale’s cell is one of the first ones we reach. He lifts his eyebrows as a way of acknowledging our parting. I just barely turn up the edges of my lips, daring to give a soft smile. We’ve gotten so good at communicating with just the slightest of movements. Beale quickly enters his cell, and I continue marching forward as if I haven’t noticed anyone else even exists.

“Last and least,” Commander Penn gives me a dark smile as we approach my cell. “In you go, Zara.”

I do not give him the satisfaction of a reaction as I quickly enter my cell. The thought of one more second with Commander Penn makes my skin crawl.

I take a quick scan of the small room upon entering. The familiar plain white walls and hard gray floor greet me. Despite my longevity at The Facility, my cell is rather minimal. Not that I would be allowed to do much more than the bare minimum, anyway.

Practically paper thin, a twin-sized mattress sits on a metal frame with one of my few possessions, a patchwork quilt, folded neatly around the hard edges. My book collection, reaching a grand total of four, sits atop a small metal desk next to a small cardboard box of puzzle pieces. My heart tugs at the thought in the back of my head that I’ll soon be parting with my only belongings. I shake off the emotion, reminding myself that I am prepared for the Ship Date. More than prepared.

I’ve been longing for the Ship Date since the announcement was made. Not many here can make that claim, but I have nothing left on this planet. I deserved my penance at The Facility, but I was eager to enter a new world, even if survivability was unknown. It was time to move on. If I could erase the memories of this place, I would. Except for maybe Beale. He’s been the only bright spot in this dark place.

Beale, like most, doesn’t share my sentiments. His sister, Beatrice, writes to him frequently and his mother has sent a few gifts. He has people on this planet that he loves. People that love him. People who are probably awake right now, sick to their stomach because of how quickly the Ship Date is approaching.

I open the lid of my clothing trunk and pull out a standard sleeping set, peeling off my sticky training suit. With Commander Penn on watch tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to request a Utilities Room visit. I quickly redressed, keeping my eyes focused on the small window as I changed. Exhaustion was starting to consume me and I wanted to tuck myself under the quilt and succumb to it, but I needed at least an hour to read. My time for that was expiring fast.

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I woke up to the faint sound of movement in the hall and immediately felt a rush of panic. Something is wrong. No, I tried to challenge my thinking, there was no evidence of that. Yet. I tried to steady my breathing as I stretched out of the bed. The book I had dozed off reading was sprawled across the floor.

I could feel my heart beating in my whole body, increasing with every quiet step I took toward the window. I leaned over just enough to catch a quick glimpse. That was all I needed.

Commander Penn was standing with his back to my window, facing a small crowd of novice guards. They weren't more than ten feet away from my cell door. His arms had been moving as if he were giving them directions. This wasn’t typical, I had been here long enough to know that. I hesitated before taking another peek. Commander Penn was speaking into a radio this time, and the guards were dispersing back down the hall. What does this mean?

There isn't time for me think as my door suddenly opens and I let out an involuntary yelp. Commander Penn enters in a rush. If he is bothered by my being awake, it doesn’t show. He quickly grabs my arms, directing me in front of him, his wrinkled eyes frantically looking over my face.

“Zara– I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he whispers in an unfamiliar tone. His rough old voice is almost gentle, hinged with a hint of regret. “There was so much more you needed to learn,” he continues in the same tone, “but you’re ready. More ready than anyone. I believe in you.”

What does this mean? I want to scream, but I can’t find a way to open my mouth. Commander Penn leaves my cell as swiftly as he entered, and the whole interaction feels less than a single second. I don’t even have time to catch my breath, when an alarm sounds throughout The Facility. A robotic voice begins repeating:

“The Ship Date has been moved up to: IMMEDIATELY.”

The Ship Date has been moved up to... immediately? The words aren’t registering. I am still standing in the same spot. Numb, frozen. Beale would probably tell me I’m in shock. Beale.

The thought of him forces my body to move. To run. Did Commander Penn mean to leave my door open? I reach Beale’s cell in a matter of seconds and peer through the small window. He’s sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. His shoulders are moving in a way that tells me he’s crying pretty hard. I debate knocking for a moment, out of fear I’ll embarrass him for catching him this way, but Beale isn’t one to shy away from emotions. He welcomes all the feelings I've spent my life burying.

His dark eyes move up to meet mine as soon as I knock rapidly on the window. His face is streaked with tears, but his eyes brighten when he realizes it’s me. Of course I don’t have a way of opening his door, but I hold my hand up to the window in an effort to comfort him. He matches his hand to mine with a look I recognize as both fear and hope. We both know this is harder for him. We hold eye contact for a few seconds– until the door to Beale’s cell suddenly slides away. We both freeze at the change, the heat from Beale’s palm, only centimeters away, radiating against mine. Before our hands can even meet, the robotic voice is back. This time it repeats:

“All released inmates must report immediately to the Training Center. Full gear.”

Beale’s eyes flash with fear, and he shoves me in the direction of my cell. “Go Zara,” he urges, “we have to be ready.” I’m surprised by how much his words sound like my own typically do. Knowing he’s right, I sprint back down the hallway and rush to my clothing trunk. I don’t bother turning on the single overhead light. I don’t need a last look at the few things I have to leave behind. The quilt, the books, the puzzle. The room I’ve spent more than half my life in. With the door open, there’s just enough dim light entering the cell for me to quickly put on a clean training suit and hurry back in Beale’s direction.

There’s much more commotion in the hallway now. Guards and inmates are swarming all around me. The faces of the inmates who are still locked in their cells are practically smashed against their small glass windows. Some look on with fear or indifference, others with envy. The few others like me, who want off this planet. My anxiety is melting into adrenaline. It’s finally the Ship Date!

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