Temi Oh - Do You Dream of Terra-Two?

When she awoke next, she was in a plastic tent. A hyperbaric chamber. Juno knew that if she could just work up the energy to roll onto her side she would find a clock on the far wall and then she’d be able to anchor herself a little in time. She would talk herself into it, steel herself for the task, but she’d drift back to sleep before she managed it. Finally, she gave up trying to move her limbs or to lift her eyelids and she tried to guess the time by the sounds on the ship. The muffled thump of footsteps outside, the voices of the others in the kitchen, Fae rushing in and out of the room, taking her temperature, scribbling notes.

Once she managed to cry out Astrid’s name, her voice a pathetic rasp, and she felt a hand in hers, cool and firm.

‘I’m here,’ her sister would say, and Juno had never been so grateful.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ she asked.

‘The thing that’s wrong with all of us. We’re running out of air,’ Astrid said, and Juno felt a tear splash against her wrist.

The pain, which came and went, made her cry out and clutch at her head – she thought someone was forcing a screwdriver through her temples.

Juno drifted in and out of technicolour interstellar dreams. She thought about God. Once, in class, her French teacher had pointed to ‘le ciel’ and said, ‘You know, where they used to believe heaven was.’ Juno had asked in shock ‘Where do they think it is now?’ She’d been on the edge of her seat at this new revelation.

‘Where has it gone?’ she asked. ‘Where is it now?’

‘I’m here, Juno,’ said Astrid and Jesse, each holding a hand as she gasped in pain. This pain, it would grind the bones in her skull to salt.

Her mind was a kaleidoscope of fantasy.

Unhinged questions.

Why had Juno never wondered where all the gods disappeared to?

In astronomy, Jupiter was only a quiet giant in the sky, big enough to hold over 1,000 Earths but not as solid as one. She had never wondered what had happened to the god that shared its name. Jove or Zeus, the dispenser of skylight. What happened to Anat, knee-deep in blood, wrestling Ba’al’s enemies. She saw now that they must have retreated somewhere, these defunct deities, and she thought she knew where.

‘Terra-Two?’ she shouted in her confusion. Only one answer.

‘I don’t think she’s going to make it.’

Juno tried not to cry out again, but her head had been seared open. ‘I can see everything,’ she gasped, ‘and it’s beautiful.’

21.02.13

TEMPERATURE: -12°C

O 2: 62% SEA LEVEL

WEEKS UNTIL RESCUE: 7

‘JESSE?’ HE’D FALLEN ASLEEP in Solomon’s room again. He knew before Fae touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes because it was colder in there, and the smell of vapour rub and antiseptic clung to everything. He was too cold to feel his feet.

‘Jesse?’

He straightened his back, pins and needles stinging his right calf and prickling his numb hands.

Jesse looked across at the girl he loved. For a while she’d drifted in and out of sleep, mumbling in confusion and shouting disjointed phrases. Often, she didn’t recognize him. She had not regained consciousness for six hours. Though Fae periodically put her in a portable hyperbaric chamber, she’d stopped showing signs of improvement and Fae was wary about using up their supplies of oxygen. They would all need it, in the end.

‘Have you eaten?’ Fae asked.

Jesse tried to remember the last time he’d been in the kitchen, what time of day it was. ‘I had breakfast.’

‘That was twelve hours ago.’

‘I—’

‘You have to eat.’ She touched the back of his hand with her mitten. ‘Keep up your strength. I thought I’d try one last round in the chamber. Another dose of Dexamethasone. See if we see any improvements.’ The word ‘last’ made Jesse’s throat tighten. ‘I’ll keep her company. Go.’

Jesse stood with some difficulty. He was beginning to feel the weakness in his own body, pain in his head, a listing dizziness whenever he stood. Nightmares about drowning.

‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

‘Take your time.’ It sounded more like a plea.

Jesse squinted in the half-light of the corridor. Looked at the time on his watch and realized he’d already missed dinner.

Poppy was sitting at the breakfast counter when he entered, eating from a greasy bag of microwave popcorn. ‘Guess what I found,’ she said when Jesse entered, ‘I forgot I packed these. It was Harry’s idea: most junk food, least space. Oh, were you crying?’

Jesse felt the blood rising in his cheeks. ‘No,’ he said, ‘just sleeping.’

‘How is she doing?’ Poppy asked.

‘Bad…’ He strained for a moment to catch his breath. ‘Is there something to eat?’

Poppy looked around the room and shrugged. ‘More mac broth – or else something from a tin. Nothing fresh left, obviously, since the garden died. The food in the water-based cans has frozen.’

Jesse sank down in one of the chairs, realizing that his whole body ached and that at any moment his constricted breathing might turn into sobs.

‘You can have some popcorn for dinner. What do you prefer: sweet or salty or both?’

‘I’m actually not so hungry.’ Loss of appetite – another symptom.

‘Jesse?’ He turned to find Poppy’s eyes wide and concerned. ‘You’re being super brave, you know that?’

‘I’m not the brave one,’ he said, thinking of how terrified he’d felt the previous night when Juno had woken up screaming, convinced that all the air had leaked out of the room.

‘Oh, jeez!’ Poppy swore under her breath. ‘That was a stupid thing to say. I’m so stupid sometimes.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Jesse said.

Poppy slid off the high chair behind the breakfast bar, rummaged through the cupboard and brought out a thin packet of something. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, actually.’

‘What?’

She walked over to the microwave and switched it on. ‘I was thinking about the Beta.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Don’t you ever wonder about all this sometimes? Wonder why they chose us?’

‘Because you guys were the best,’ Jesse said automatically. His teeth were chattering.

‘What does that mean?’

‘You know, they tested us for years. We’re smart, physically fit. We’re of reproductive age—’

‘Yes, yes. I’m not talking about any of that. Sometimes I think it was just some kind of sick test. All those fit-checks, the psych team on the ground. Doesn’t it feel sometimes like instead of us experimenting on Terra, they’re experimenting on us?’

Like the others, Poppy had lost weight, her cheekbones now sharply defined, and there were new hollows under her eyes. Her body was heavy with layers – working boots, a scarf, silver puffa jacket – but even so, as she stood, she kept stamping her feet to keep the blood circulating in her toes. Motes of frost stuck to strands of hair at the end of her ponytail, like sugar crystals.

‘I just think,’ she continued, ‘we’re all so… There’s so much wrong with us.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Jesse said. ‘It’s not us, it’s this situation. There’s nothing normal about this situation, about watching Orlando go up in flames and then half our own ship too. Watching Solomon die and then… and Ara… and…’ He stopped, bit his lip.

Poppy ran her fingers through her long hair again. She was beginning to lose some of it; stray copper tresses caught between her fingers and pulled away from her scalp. ‘I remembered Christina Abellard.’ For a second the name drew a blank, and then Jesse recalled the tall olive-skinned girl who was on the debating team. ‘And how when they started selections for the Beta we all knew she would make it.’