Tabitha Chirrick - Overshadowed

Today at the docks, the assistant would tell her what she already accepted: her mom wasn’t here, and she never would be. But it didn’t dull the excitement, or the hope that Jace, at least, would be able to reconnect with his family.

Jace chirped — a quiet, whining sound — and hung his head. Tayel patted his shoulder. He hadn’t slept well the night before. He’d tossed and turned and called out garbled names into the jacket he used as a pillow, but Tayel hadn’t thought of anything she could do to help. At least he’d slept at all. She’d been getting less and less as the days grew hotter.

“You okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m nervous about what we’re going to learn at the docks — like usual.”

“Everything will probably still be at a middle. No bad news, no good news.”

“Mm.” He hooked his talons in his pockets. “And that woman, Shy.”

“What about her?”

“You’re not considering whatever favor she wants, are you?”

“That’s kind of out of nowhere.”

“You’ve just been sort of quiet since yesterday.”

“You two are both quiet today,” Fehn said. “It’s nice.”

Tayel glared at him. “Unlike you.”

He shrugged.

“I’m surprised you’re even coming with us,” she continued. “It’s not like you’re expecting anyone.”

“Not going for the shuttles,” he said. “Going to look around the docks for a bit.”

Jace cocked his head. “For what?”

“A way out.”

“Oh.”

The hillside path turned into rickety wooden stairs leading up to the two decorated wooden pillars marking the entrance of the docks. The volume of chatter was louder than usual. More frenzied, too. Tayel walked a little faster, and at the top of the steps, she paused.

Hundreds of refugees crowded the tents where she and Jace had asked about arrivals for the past week. Guards were usually good about keeping people in straight lines — one for each assistant — but today they stood by, watching, but not doing anything. Maybe what few of them there were weren’t enough to disperse the swarm.

A sobbing man pushed out from the front of the crowd and stopped a few feet away to fall to his knees and bury his face in his hands. Tayel averted her eyes. She looked past him, toward the shuttles on the landing pads further up the docks. None of them bore Delta’s insignia. Her stomach sank. They were in for bad news today.

“Is it normally like this?” Fehn asked.

“Not really,” Jace said. “This is louder than usual. And people look really upset.”

Tayel gestured for him to follow. “Come on. Let’s find out what’s happening.”

“You two go ahead,” Fehn said. “I’ll catch up later.”

She nodded back at him and sidled up to the closest thing to a line she could find. Jace stayed silent beside her. He tapped his foot. Maintained that sort of thoughtful, aloof smile. She worried for him. He was so sure Otto was coming, but if the news was bad, he might not be able to take it. Jace was always optimistic — so much so Tayel sometimes found him annoying — but he took crushing news in a, well, crushing way.

Three years ago, when he made the change from secondary to tertiary school, he petitioned the district to abstain from after-school aetherion classes. He’d never use aether to harm someone. He never used it anyway, for anything. She’d been there when he’d opened the letter, all official on custom flexi-screen stationary from the district supervisory. He’d been certain it was good news. The way his face dropped when he read the note still made Tayel cringe.

It hadn’t just been a refusal to his request, but a refusal to acknowledge his abstinence from the aether. In a way, it was the last piece of proof he needed to understand he’d been marked as an aetherion for life. It could have been worse, of course. It could have been five hundred years ago in the empire, when aetherions were killed or made slaves to keep them from taking over with superior firepower. None of her platitudes had made him stop crying, though, and more than anything, she hoped he didn’t have to cry again.

A buzz of rumor spread through the crowd, little snippets of information arriving at the back every few seconds. Her heart hammered at every utter. Deltic City, someone whispered, and she flicked her eyes to Jace. A dock emergency, maybe? Or was it a station emergency? She strained her ears, but couldn’t hear anything concrete. When almost half an hour passed and Tayel finally reached the front of the line, she practically lunged forward.

The woman behind the desk blinked slowly. “How can I assist you?”

“We wanted to check if some people came in,” Tayel said.

Jace rested his wings on the desk.

“Certainly.” The attendant tapped at a holo keypad. “Where would they be coming in from?”

“Deltic City,” Jace said.

The change in the woman’s expression happened instantly. Tired to shocked in a second. “Did you not hear what happened?”

“No. Why?” Jace asked. “What happened?”

The attendant bit her lip. “The last shuttle to depart from Deltic City has diverted to Modnik.”

There was no impact, no sudden invisible punch to the gut. There was only a growing sense of anger. It made no sense that any shuttle would divert to Modnik. The invasion was the worst there — that’s why Varg hadn’t made it to Elsha. Tayel gritted her teeth and stifled the urge to yell. Otto wouldn’t have let Jace’s family get on a shuttle going the wrong way.

“Why Modnik?” she demanded.

“Well, we can’t — we don’t have too many details, but it was reported that the shuttle’s life support was damaged during launch. They couldn’t make the trip to Elsha, and Modnik is the closest planet they could land on.”

“That’s just one shuttle, though, right? Aren’t there more coming?”

The woman focused on her screen. “No… The damage to the diverted shuttle occurred because of an explosion in the launch bay. As they departed, the station was destroyed.”

Tayel almost doubled over from a wave of nausea. “So does that mean…?”

“I’m sorry,” the attendant said. “But no more shuttles are due from Deltic City.”

Jace stifled a choking cry. He shuffled away. Tayel went after him. Why couldn’t there have been better news? Any news but this? Jace’s scurried through the crowd, head hung low and one arm nestled in the crook of his beak to cover his eyes. He wandered aimlessly through the lines despite Tayel’s efforts to guide him, weaving in and out of people in a blind attempt to break free.

He pushed out of the wall of refugees and found an empty space on the wooden planks. He sat down, buried his face in his legs. He took a heavy breath that puffed up his chest, and then it all came out, wrecking his body with violent shivers as he started to cry. Tayel caught a lump of breath in her throat and held it there. Her chest tightened. Her heart hurt. It wasn’t fair that, of all people, Jace had to go through this. Jace, who would never hurt anyone, never be mean to anyone, and never walk past a friend in need. Of all the people, he deserved this the least.

“Jace?” She knelt beside him. “Jace, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

It was like he couldn’t even hear her. He had been so sure Otto would show up someday soon and bring his family back. Tayel’s gut wrenching turned into burning. Damn Otto! Damn him for lying to them, for saying he’d bring Jace’s parents to them. Tayel’s jaw ached from how tightly it clenched. Her breathing grew shallow. If Otto hadn’t said anything, if he hadn’t given Jace stupid, pointless hope, then none of this would be happening.

“It’s okay, Jace.” She put her hand on his wing and squeezed.