Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

ALINA

" T hree through fifteen today," the dockmaster said gruffly as he checked his sheet. "Wait. Aren't you off today?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather just do this," Alina said.

The dockmaster eyed her through wiry eyebrows. "Can you do five hours?"

She nodded. The shift would end at 2300. Late, but she didn't mind. She may as well be useful. The dockmaster looked skeptical, but handed her a sheet with a list of Ariels. With so few people left to do the job, Alina knew he wouldn't turn down an offer of extra work.

When Kaia had first assigned her to the docks, she knew nothing about ship maintenance. She still knew next to nothing about it. She'd wondered why the ships even needed scrubbing. Not like they got dirty out in space—not like they even went out to space these days.

Alina soon learned that the Ariels, well, bled. Millions of tiny oil capillaries within their carbon skins kept the machinery self-lubricating when running. They also served as a heat source out there when the engines warmed up the oil. But when sitting unused for a long time, the oil would stagnate and eventually seep from the tiny pores all through the outside of the ship. If taken out regularly, it wasn't a problem; the temperatures out there would freeze the pores, preventing the capillaries from bleeding.

But now the ships were stagnant for months at a time, even before the invasion. A thin layer of oil had developed on all their outer surfaces. That attracted grime and made each Ariel sticky to the touch. The longer they sat there, the faster this rate of "bleeding" became, until they each needed a good scrub-down every two weeks.

Alina got to work, spraying Ariel 24 down with degreasing powder from a pressurized hose until the ship was covered with a thin white layer. She let that work for a few minutes while she went to change into the mechanic's suit that had been assigned to her for the job.

The scrubber scheduled for a shift that night, Julia Robinson, was just finishing tying her hair back into a low ponytail when she got into the locker room. Another perk of having a job other than Kaia's meal runs—Alina got some actual human interaction.

"You all right?" Julia's eyes were puffy, and she sniffed as she tied her hair back quickly, looking down at the tile floor.

Julia cleared her throat, blinking fast as she fidgeted with her ponytail. "I just heard word about my nona."

Right. Julia's grandmother had been living up on the command deck by nature of family connections. She was one of those Kaia declared "nonessential" and marked for relocation down to the CRD. Julia had been trying to find a way to contact her since then.

Alina's stomach sank as she sat on the bench next to her. "What did you hear?"

"There was some commotion over living quarters down there," Julia's eyes welled with tears. "She got hurt. I'm trying to get transferred to the CRD to care for her. "

Alina sighed, taking Julia's hand.

"Is she set up for Upload?" she asked softly. Julia's family had been well off. Alina was pretty sure her grandfather had Uploaded just a few years back.

Julia stared at her, a frown creasing her brow. "Yeah, she's been registered, but there haven't been any Uploads since the uhyre took over. People just… die."

"What do you mean?"

"The uhyre haven't let us near the rig since they arrived, Alina. My dad at the medbay says we've had fifty-seven known deaths—it's hard to keep track. At least thirty of the ones we know were registered. They're gone."

Alina knew Threxin had declined to grant everyone Upload when it was time to choose between that and sharing a planet with the uhyre, but she somehow hadn't realized all the legitimate Uploads would be cut off too.

Thirty people. Thirty people who had planned their lives and deaths around Heaven, saved their whole lives for it… Maybe their parents' lives too. Living with the assumption that they'd see their loved ones again someday. Just… dead. Burned for energy recycling and fertilizer.

Alina's stomach turned.

"How… how did you find out about your grandma?" she asked.

Julia sniffled, swiping at her nose with the back of her jacket arm. She lowered her voice, glancing at the door. "One of the maintenance passageways to the CRD has been found unguarded. A few of us have been meeting sometimes. When we can."

By the time Alina got back to her Ariel, the powder she'd coated it with was foaming as it interacted with the oil, loosening its bonds. Alina grabbed a round hand scrubber from the cart, popped in a new lithium-ion battery, and got to work .

Not getting the Upload you registered for just seemed unthinkable until Julia had said it out loud. Once you got the chips for it and signed the contract, that was it—not even committing a crime could revoke one's right to Upload upon death.

Alina scrubbed. Usually, she liked this. Much like her laundry post, the job was repetitive enough to let her tune out of her head. But even the work couldn't stop her from thinking about all those people, expecting to be in Heaven and ending up… dead.

Five hours later, Alina scrubbed her hands with the degreasing powder from her cart. She'd hoped to catch Julia again, but she was already gone. Alina worked at all the oil that had gotten on her skin. Her muscles ached as she massaged her elbows to work out the knots there.

She spent a few minutes watching the comings and goings from the dock. There wasn't much activity these days, but there were still pilots on duty. Isabelle, a pilot who'd trained in the same group as Kaia, made a frequent appearance, seemingly also posted to the dock for a job. Whatever she had to do, it required spending time in the utility closet on the side of the dock. Organizing equipment, Alina supposed. She felt a little sorry for the girl—a trained pilot, assigned to sorting supplies.

"Hey, Isabelle." Alina waved when Isabelle was on the way out of the walk-in.

Isabelle gave her a curt nod. She'd always been a bit of a snob, but Alina couldn't blame her. She was popular with pretty much everyone on the ship, from the pilots to the laundry shift workers. Striking platinum hair and statuesque height made her stand out wherever she went. Her legs were so long and slender that they reminded Alina of a giraffe she'd seen in a vid about Old Earth zoos. If she wanted, Isabelle could have been a model. The Ithaca would've taken her on in no time and put her to work selling flashy clothes and jewelry to the Zenith and other colonies.

Alina finished up, stashed her equipment, and prepared to go out into the halls, under the unnerving glares of the uhyre patrols once more.