LEO
THERE’S A BANGING AT MY DOOR, A SHOUTING THAT PIERCES through my dreams. I wake with a start, blinking at the clock beside me as it flashes 3:30. Did I imagine the noise? What could be going on at this hour?
But then I hear a familiar voice cry out for help, and I throw the covers off me. I step into the first pair of pants I can find and open the door.
It’s Naomi. As soon as she sees me, her face crumples.
“Suki’s in trouble,” she gasps. “Everything was fine, I thought she was getting better, and then—then—”
Asher joins us in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.
“What’s going on?”
“Something’s happened to Suki,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”
The three of us run down the dark corridor to the girls’ wing, a few bleary-eyed finalists peeking their heads out of their rooms at the sound of the commotion, until we’re standing at the door to Naomi and Suki’s room. I can hear a strangled sound coming from inside, and Naomi hesitates before opening the door.
“I—I should prepare you. It’s really bad—”
“It’s okay,” Asher tells her. “I was in the military, and Leo . . .” His voice trails off, but I know where his sentence leads. Leo’s whole family died. He can handle a sick teammate.
“Come on,” I tell Naomi. She gulps and opens the door—and my whole body tenses in panic.
A wild animal is convulsing on the bed, shaking and foaming at the mouth. Her head snaps in our direction as we enter, and she opens her mouth to speak, to yell—but all that comes out are garbled sounds. The effort seems to agitate her more, and now she’s rattling the bedframe with her shaking, her skin turning a bluish-gray hue. This isn’t Suki—it can’t be.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Naomi stares at the bed in terror. “At first I thought it was a seizure, but it’s only getting worse. I wanted to take her to the medic, but I can’t lift her by myself, and you’re not supposed to move someone when they’re having a seizure—if that’s even what this is.” She breaks off, shaking her head helplessly, and I turn to Asher.
“Go get help, okay? Try and make it back as fast as you can.” I sound far stronger than I feel, and Asher nods, looking relieved to have something to do. As he races out of the room, I take a few tentative steps toward Suki.
“It’s—it’s going to be okay,” I stammer, though I know she’s not listening. She’s too far gone. “Help is coming, and—”
In the space of a breath, Suki reaches up and seizes both my wrists. Her force catches me off guard, and I shout out as she presses her fingernails into my skin.
“What’s she doing?” Naomi cries.
“I—don’t know—how did she—get—so strong?” I choke out.
“Tā hái huózhe.” Suki stares at me with frantic eyes and repeats the phrase in a distorted voice. “Tā hái huózhe.”
“It’s Mandarin,” Naomi pants. “Please tell me you understand Mandarin.”
I shake my head.
“Tā hái huózhe,” Suki says again, this time in a whisper. And then she drops my wrists—and her body turns limp.
“No!” Naomi screams, running to her side. I drop my head in my hands, dreading the moment that I know is coming. I can’t see another dead body, not another person—
“She’s breathing!” Naomi holds two fingers against her pulse, and relief floods through me. There’s still a chance.
Footsteps come pounding toward us, and the door flies open. As Asher returns with Lark and Dr. Takumi in tow, Suki’s body jerks forward, her convulsing recurring more violently than before. She pounds her head against the wall as she thrashes, still crying out the unfamiliar phrase, “Tā hái huózhe.” I can see tears in her eyes, and I turn to Dr. Takumi and Lark in desperation.
“What’s happening to her?”
“And what’s she saying?” Naomi demands from behind me. “Can you understand her?”
Lark’s face drains of color as she takes in the scene. She turns to Dr. Takumi, who doesn’t say a word either. He simply steps forward, his presence in the middle of the dorm room only adding to the heightened sense of fear—and he reaches for Suki. I hold my breath as he lifts her off the bed and she shrieks, her head whipping back and forth, her hands clawing at the air. Still managing to maintain his composure, Dr. Takumi reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a syringe.
“What are you do—” But before Naomi can get out her question, Dr. Takumi plunges the needle into Suki’s skin. And everything turns quiet.
“This light sedative should do the trick,” he says, tightening his grip around Suki. He moves toward the door, and Naomi jumps in front of him.
“Where you taking her? What’s happening?”
“I’m afraid she’s had an adverse reaction to the RRB,” he says coolly. “I’m taking her to the larger medical facility at Johnson Space Center. We’ll keep you updated as necessary.”
The four of us watch as Dr. Takumi carries her away, until all that’s left of Suki is the stench of fear. Lark sighs heavily.
“I’m sorry you all had to see that. When the body rejects a vaccine, it can on occasion cause catatonic symptoms that are frightening to witness. But you can trust that Dr. Takumi is getting Suki the best care possible.”
“If the RRB is so risky—” Naomi starts, but Lark cuts her off.
“For the vast majority of you, it isn’t. Suki is the only one of the Twenty-Four to exhibit any symptoms.”
So far, my mind adds. Could one of us be next?
“I know it’ll be hard to sleep after this,” she acknowledges. “But we have another busy day tomorrow, and you’ll want to be well rested.”
“Wait.” Naomi looks at her in disbelief. “So no matter what happens to Suki, tomorrow is business as usual?”
“That’s how it works in our field,” Lark says. “At NASA, I trained with the crew of the Athena, and I saw some of my closest friends die. I was devastated, but I still had to show up to work. Our goals at NASA remained the same: to push the boundaries of space and find a new home for human life. That doesn’t change when something bad happens.” She moves toward the door. “And there’s no reason to believe that anything irreparable happened tonight. If I know Dr. Takumi, he won’t spare any expense to make sure Suki returns to her old self.”
“Let’s hope,” Naomi murmurs under her breath.
“On that note,” Lark continues, “I suggest we go back to our rooms and at least try to get some sleep.”
“You guys go ahead,” I tell them. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”
Lark gives me a sideways look, but she doesn’t try to stop me.
“Just don’t make it much longer.”
“Goodnight, Naomi. I—I hope you’ll be okay,” Asher says, his eyes flicking back to Suki’s empty bed before following Lark out of the room. And then it’s just the two of us.
I watch as Naomi crosses to her side of the room, decorated with photos and posters where Suki’s is bare. She sinks to the floor, leaning against her bedframe with her head pressed to her knees.
“This is all my fault,” she says dully. “I suspected something was wrong twenty-four hours ago. I shouldn’t have listened to her. I could have prevented this.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, clearing a space next to her on the floor. “Plus, it seemed like she was getting better. I thought she was over the worst of it when I saw her at dinner. How were you to know something like this would happen?”
“I shouldn’t have let her get another injection,” she continues, through gritted teeth. “Maybe she was getting better, but the second shot is what did it.”
“This isn’t your fault.” I rest my hand on her arm. “You didn’t create the RRB, and you didn’t force her to take it. You tried to get her help and she refused. As someone who knows a thing or two about guilt . . .” I take a deep breath. “You have to let it go.”
She is quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” Her eyes roam back to Suki’s empty bed. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep tonight.”
“I can . . . stay here with you. For as long as you want.”
She smiles slightly. “Thank you. I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
I smile back, something stirring in my chest as I look at her.
“I need a distraction.” Naomi sighs, leaning her head back against the bed. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “You know where I always wanted to go, before the floods?”
“Where?”
“Italy,” she says. “I had this dream folder at home, where I’d store photos and articles of places I wanted to go, things I wanted to do. I pictured taking this victory trip with my brother one day, when he was all better. The plan was to spend three weeks going between Venice, Florence, Rome, and the Amalfi Coast, seeing all the landmarks and tasting all the regional dishes along the way.” Her smile fades. “It would have been amazing.”
“I wish you could have seen it too,” I say quietly. “Maybe, if things had been different . . . we would have met there instead.”
“Yeah.” She is silent for a moment, and then she asks, “Will you tell me about it? Rome?”
A fist closes around my heart. It’s been so long since I’ve let myself remember what it was really like—when the Colosseum and the Spanish Steps stood on dry land. When my family was alive. But the images are already rushing to my mind, and I hear myself start to speak.
“Maybe everyone thinks their city is the center of the world, but Rome really was. We had history right in our backyard—the Gladiators’ stadium, Vatican City. We had Michelangelo, Fellini. But even with all the history, somehow it never felt old. The city was filled with loud, pulsing life. Everywhere you went, there were people of all ages in cafés and restaurants, out in the nightclubs, cheering in the streets for the football teams on game day. I loved the noise.”
“Sounds awesome,” Naomi says, closing her eyes. I can tell her body is relaxing, her tight shoulders loosening, and I continue.
“Even though it was technically a big city, there was a closeness among the locals. My neighbors were all involved in each other’s lives. If I went out with a girl once, Mrs. Conti next door would ask about her for weeks afterward.” I laugh. “My family’s pensione hosted a regular Sunday lunch for the locals and hotel guests. We stuffed ourselves with six courses of food, and then my mother would sit at the piano and everyone would sing the classic Italian songs—the songs we all knew by heart. Sometimes we’d be there for hours. Angelica had an amazing voice. The rest of us were just loud, but she could really sing.”
Naomi shifts a little closer to me, as I feel some part of myself leaving this room—returning home, bringing my family back to life. I look down at the Danieli signet ring on my finger, tracing the cursive letter D with my thumb.
“It was paradise. And . . . I guess I’m lucky I got to experience it, before it was all gone.”
“It sounds like heaven.” Naomi rests her head on my shoulder. We stay like that for minutes or hours—time seems to disappear—until the sound of her soft breathing lets me know she’s managed to fall asleep.
As gently as I can, I lift her into my arms and onto the bed. She stirs but doesn’t wake, and I pull the covers up around her.
“Goodnight, Naomi,” I whisper.
I look at her one last time. Her expression is so peaceful as she sleeps, as though the trauma we witnessed with Suki never happened.
I step out of the room, feeling my way through the dark back to the boys’ dorm. All the while, her face remains imprinted in my mind.
I wake up a zombie the next morning, half delirious from barely any sleep. Asher and I get ready in a hurry, both of us anxious to see if, by some miracle, Suki will be waiting for us at our team table for breakfast. But when we walk into the cafeteria, we find her seat empty. Lark and Dr. Takumi are missing, too.
“I guess she’s still getting treatment,” I tell Asher. “God, I hope she’s okay.”
I lock eyes with Naomi across the room, and I am suddenly wide awake. Asher and I slide into our seats, with me beside her.
“Hey,” I say, giving her a small smile. “How are you doing?”
“Hi. I’m . . .” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I just want to find out what happened to my roommate.”
As if on cue, Lark dashes into the cafeteria, followed by Dr. Takumi at a slower pace. Before Lark even makes it to her seat, Naomi, Asher, and I pounce on her with questions, while Katerina and Beckett listen curiously, the two of them still in the dark about Suki.
“Dr. Takumi will explain everything” is all Lark says. But from the look on her face, I have the sinking feeling that it’s not good news.
Dr. Takumi strides to his perch at the front of the room and holds up his hands for silence. “I have an unfortunate announcement to make. As you may have noticed, one of our Twenty-Four is absent today. Regrettably, Suki Chuan had to be cut early, due to her suffering an adverse reaction to the RRB. She is no longer a finalist for the Europa Mission.”
The news hits me like a blow. I turn to Naomi just as her expression crumbles. Gasps and exclamations of shock ripple through the cafeteria, and my stomach lurches at the realization that Suki is gone, her chance at a future ruined in one night.
“Where is she?” Naomi whispers to Lark, her lower lip quivering.
“Still at the medical center. It’ll be some time before she’s back to her old self, but don’t worry,” Lark says. “She’s getting the best care.”
“To anyone concerned this might happen to you: the good news is that the odds of an allergic reaction to the RRB are still very slim. If you haven’t experienced symptoms yet, chances are that your body is accepting the serum. However, what happened to Suki is the precise reason we monitor your reactions before you leave Earth.” Dr. Takumi pauses, intensifying his gaze on all of us. “If you feel anything out of the ordinary, I expect you to come directly to me, or to your team leader. The last thing you want is a medical complication to arise on Europa—when you’re largely on your own.” He clears his throat. “And now, let’s try to move beyond this unfortunate circumstance and start today on the right foot.”
He gives the signal for us to line up at the buffet counter, but no one at our table moves. Even Beckett looks uncertain.
“Damn. One down already,” he says, breaking the silence.
“She didn’t deserve this.” Naomi’s voice breaks as she turns back to Lark. “When can we see her? We should at least go visit.”
“Um, I’m not sure about that,” Lark says, glancing away. “The medical center doesn’t allow visitors at this acute stage, outside of immediate family.”
“She told me she doesn’t have any living family, though, except a stepdad she doesn’t get along with,” Katerina objects. “Naomi’s right. We have to go visit her.”
Asher and I nod, and Lark leans forward, lowering her voice.
“I know it’s hard, but you need to let this go. Trust me—nothing good can come from pressing the issue. You can’t do anything for Suki now, but the five of you are still in the running to make the Final Six. That has to be your focus. Nothing else.”
She’s right, I know. None of us can afford to get distracted and lose our grasp on this opportunity, least of all me. And yet . . . why do I get the feeling that her words contain a veiled threat?
A pall hangs over the five of us as we move through our training day a diminished team. The only one among us who seems in any way cheery is, of course, Beckett. As Lark escorts us to the diving pool for another session with Lieutenant Barnes, I glance behind me and notice Beckett walking alongside Naomi and Katerina, saying something to Naomi that makes her flinch. I slow my pace until I’m in step with them.
“I mean, when you think about it, she was probably your biggest competition,” I hear him say. “I did my research on the Twenty-Four before I got here, and it’s obvious you were both up for one of the academic spots on the mission. Your chances just got a lot better now that she’s gone.”
“My friend is in the hospital,” Naomi snaps. “You think I care about who beats who in the draft?”
Beckett shrugs, unfazed.
“She wasn’t that much of a friend, though, was she? You knew her for, like, a week.”
Naomi shoots him a withering look.
“She was my roommate. Maybe it’s hard for you to care about someone you’re spending nearly twenty-four/seven with, but some of us don’t have the same trouble.”
“I’m just saying.” He gives her an appraising look. “I think you latched on to her because you missed having your sick brother to take care of.”
Fury rises within me, and I jump between the two of them.
“Hey, man, why don’t you shut the hell up?”
I want to grab him by the collar and toss him against the wall; I want to make him pay for talking to Naomi that way. But before I can, she sidesteps me and seizes the back of his shirt, shoving him so roughly that he stumbles into Katerina.
“Never talk about my brother again,” she hisses.
“Enough!” Lark swoops down on us, yanking Naomi away from Beckett. “This team has been through plenty without you two adding to the drama. Unless you want to see what Dr. Takumi is like when he gets angry, you’ll drop this fight and start behaving like supportive teammates. Got it?”
They both grumble their assent while refusing to look at each other. As soon as Lark’s back is turned, Naomi elbows past Beckett, and Katerina catches up with us.
“I know he might have acted like a jerk, but Beckett’s not all bad,” she says in a hushed voice. “I’ve talked to him a few times, and, well . . . let’s just say people wouldn’t envy him if they knew the whole story with his family.”
“I don’t care what his story is,” Naomi says flatly. “He didn’t just act like a jerk, he is one.”
“Besides, we all came here with a past and you don’t see the rest of us making enemies,” I point out.
“Yeah,” Katerina concedes. “I don’t know . . .”
Our conversation cuts off as we enter the room surrounding the diving pool, with Lieutenant Barnes waiting for us at the water’s edge. As we get closer, through the water I can see what looks like a one-seater submarine, parked on the ice that blankets the bottom of the pool. A glass dome surrounds the driver’s seat of the vehicle, while the pressure hull is a bulky steel sphere attached to battery pods and thrusters. A set of dividers lines the pool, reminding me of my racing days—and despite the morning we’ve had, I feel the faint stirrings of excitement.
“Let’s go, team!” Lieutenant Barnes beckons us toward him.
We gather around, and I’m expecting him to start by saying something about Suki, to reassure us in some way—but he doesn’t. Instead, he delves straight into the task at hand, as though there is nothing unusual about our team of five.
“Today’s focus is water survival,” he begins. “What you see before you at the bottom of the pool is a submersible: the same model of underwater vehicle that members of the Final Six will drive in Europa’s ocean after drilling through the ice.”
“Amazing,” Asher murmurs, and I nod in agreement.
“When you touch down on Europa, you will initially live in an inflatable home on the ice’s surface,” Lieutenant Barnes continues. “However, to create a habitable environment for a mass settlement of humans, we need you to drill down into the ice crust to enter the postulated subsurface ocean. With Cyb and Dot’s navigational guidance, you will locate the massive pocket between the icy surface and the ocean interior. That pocket is where you will uncover an endless stretch of rocky land, be able to produce oxygen from the nearby ocean using water electrolysis—and where you will be safe from the radiation and drastic temperatures, thanks to the ice shield overhead. And that is where you will plant your flag and establish our new human colony.” He pauses. “That’s our holy grail.”
As I picture it in my mind, I feel a rush of certainty that this will be my legacy. This has to be the reason I survived the flood—to lead us to the next world.
“Now, finding and building up this section of land will involve many back-and-forth trips in the submersibles, particularly for whoever is the designated underwater specialist. That’s why today you’ll be getting a crash course in how to drive these vehicles—and how to escape in an emergency.”
We watch as the lieutenant demonstrates the challenge before us, diving into the water and swimming down to the submersible. He unlatches the glass dome and climbs into the driver’s seat before deploying the thrusters and using the foot pedals to fly across the pool floor, hands-free. As he reaches the opposite end of the pool, through the transparent window of the glass dome we can see him fiddling with a gear box—and then the submersible shoots up through the water like a miniature rocket, breaking the surface of the pool. He climbs out of the vehicle to the sound of our applause.
“You’ll perform the challenge one at a time, starting with a dive down to the submersible at the blow of my whistle,” he directs us. “Entering the vehicle, you’ll find a touch screen that controls the power, thrust, speed, and emergency functions. I’ve programmed the submersible so that after you complete a set of driving laps around the pool, an alarm will go off, requiring you to use the emergency thrust-booster technology to propel up to the surface. I’ll be timing each of you to see who can complete this drill in under five minutes.
“To cap off the challenge, once you emerge from the submersible, you will swim just below the surface and attempt to hold your breath underwater for a full two minutes. It may seem counterintuitive to all the equipment you’re learning to use, but astronauts must be prepared for anything—including the unlikely event of a systems failure in Europa’s waters. In a rare case like that, the ability to hold your breath until you can reach the surface would mean the difference between life and death.”
Lieutenant Barnes passes out wet suits, and the five of us peel off our uniforms down to the bathing suits we’re wearing underneath. At the sight of Naomi in her one-piece, my skin turns hot. I look away quickly.
“When I call your name, line up at the diving board. This will be the order you’ll complete the challenge in.”
My name comes last, and I watch from the end of the line as my teammates dive into the pool one by one. Naomi struggles with the submersible, but Asher and Katerina get the hang of it after a couple minutes of fumbling. To my chagrin, only Beckett achieves the one-two punch of successfully working the submersible on his first try and holding his breath the full two minutes. And then it’s my turn.
I step up to the tallest springboard, conscious of all eyes on me as I dive off the edge. And as soon as my skin touches the water, it’s like a key clicking into place. I gasp as an electric current courses through my veins, turning my arms and legs into vibrating, tingling energy—a sensation I’ve never felt before. All I know is that my body is clamoring to move, and I follow its order, tearing into a freestyle stroke. My body zooms through the pool like a cartoon in fast-forward, and I know without seeing a stopwatch that I’m crushing all my previous times. How am I doing this? I’ve always been fast, but this is speed on another level. It’s as though my limbs are made of jets.
In a matter of seconds, I’m in front of the submersible, lifting the lid on the glass dome and climbing inside the compact driver’s seat. A touch screen blinks from the inside of my glass window, and I reach for the Power button, pushing the foot pedal. And then the vehicle hurtles forward, zipping through the water like a thrill ride, and I laugh out loud from the sheer joy of it.
A high-pitched alarm blares inside my driver’s seat compartment, while the touch screen lights up with urgent red letters: WARNING! O2 AT 5%. I grin, knowing this means I get to use the thrust-booster.
My fingers fly over the touch screen, jabbing different buttons until I find ENGAGE EMERGENCY THRUST. A rumbling echoes from the engine below me, the pool water ripples around the submersible—and the vehicle shoots straight up, breaking the surface with a loud splash.
I open the pilot’s seat hatch and climb out of the glass dome, still thrumming with adrenaline.
“That was awesome!” I yell from the pool. No one responds, and as I glance at my teammates, I notice they are all looking at me strangely.
“Your time is three minutes even,” Lieutenant Barnes reads from his stopwatch, raising his eyebrows.
“Holy . . .” I trail off, taken aback by my own speed.
“All right, when I blow the whistle, finish the drill by holding your breath underwater for two minutes. Ready?”
I nod. This will be a cinch, after my days diving in Rome without any breathing equipment. I hear the shriek of the whistle, and I plunge back underwater, sucking in my breath. The two minutes pass effortlessly—I could always manage that—but then I hear the Lieutenant’s muffled voice shouting out, “Five minutes!” and, what feels like only seconds later, “Ten!”
The weird thing is, I’m not even struggling. Normally by this point I’d be hungry for air, but right now, I feel like I could stay down here another ten minutes or more. Still, a nagging voice in my head tells me I’ve shown off plenty for one day. I don’t need to make this whole training period the Leo Show. So when I hear Lieutenant Barnes cheer, “Fifteen minutes!” I finally rise out of the water.
A tall shadow looms at the edge of the pool, and as the water clears from my eyes, I see who it is. Someone must have sent for Dr. Takumi while I was underwater, because there he is, standing in front of my thunderstruck teammates.
Dr. Takumi extends his hand as I hoist myself out of the pool, and our eyes meet. He gives me a rare smile—and I know I’ve done it.
I’ve impressed the most important figure here.