Molly Fyde and the Land of Light

bad as soon as she hit “enter,” wishing there was some way to delete it from her mother’s memory.

NO. NOT LUCIN_

The flat denial dissolved Molly’s will to remove the words. Now she wanted to pound them home.

YES, LUCIN. HE HAD A GUN ON ME. HE WANTED THIS SHIP BADLY ENOUGH TO KILL ME FOR IT. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON. I’M NOT A KID ANYMORE. I’M 16 AND I’VE BEEN CLEAR ACROSS THE GALAXY ON MY OWN, I’VE BEEN THROUGH SOME CRAZY STUFF IN THE PAST MONTH — I THINK I CAN HANDLE WHATEVER IT IS_

Molly watched as Cole finished an emergency spin-up of the hyperdrive, preparing for the first jump. She trusted his calculations and didn’t bother double-checking them. Instead, she concentrated on the nav screen while her stomach tightened up, maybe in preparation for the jump, possibly because of what her mother might tell her.

MAYBE YOU COULD HANDLE IT. THE NAVY COULDN’T, BUT MAYBE YOU COULD. WE’LL SEE. JUST KEEP IN MIND THAT WHATEVER SORT OF FAITH YOU’RE USING TO TRUST THAT THIS IS ME, I’M HAVING TO DO THE SAME THING TO TRUST THAT YOU ARE YOU. IT’S A DARK PLACE HERE. I’M JUST AS SCARED AS YOU ARE. MAYBE MORE, KNOWING WHAT I KNOW. WE’LL SORT THIS OUT ON THE WAY TO DAKURA OR LOK_

Molly tried to digest the idea that her mother couldn’t know who she was talking to. That she was just as much a stranger to her own mother as her mother was to her. It seemed to plug missing pieces into her view of the world. And no matter how many times this happened—that Molly learned things weren’t always what they seemed—she couldn’t yet seem to generalize the idea. She constantly felt wiser, yet she kept getting fooled. Or hurt. She leaned over the keyboard.

WE’RE GOING TO DRENARD FIRST. AFTER THAT, AND ONCE MY FRIEND IS OK, WE’LL GO TO DAKURA. I PROMISE_

OK, the screen read, BUT PLEASE, TALK TO ME. IT’S THE ONLY THING I’VE HAD SINCE YOU UNLOCKED ME_

Molly thought about that, her fingers resting on the keyboard. She understood completely. Suffering a childhood alone, lying in her bunk at night in the Academy, surrounded by darkness and the whispering of strangers… she understood. She used to lie in that state and dream of the comforting presence her missing parents could bring her.

She never imagined it could be the other way around. Or reciprocal.

Molly considered the things she’d like to have heard from her parents when she was alone and confused. She wondered what her mother would enjoy knowing. Once again, the realized dream of having a conversation with her mom paralyzed her. She didn’t know where to begin. Peering out through the carboglass, gazing at the stars, her fingers hovered over the keys while her mind raced.

Maybe just tidbits to start with. Random likes and dislikes. She started to type the first thing that came to mind while Cole thumbed the hyperdrive.

Outside, the constellations shifted.

Ever so slightly.

5

“Ssandwich?”

Molly turned from her typing to find Walter holding out some sort of food concoction, layers of leftovers neatly arranged between chunks of bread like geological strata.

“Mmm. No, but thank you,” she said politely.

Cole reached for the refused victuals. “Thanks, buddy.”

Walter snapped it back. “It’ss for Molly,” he hissed, his eyes narrow slits.

“I appreciate it,” Molly told him, “but my stomach isn’t feeling great. Cole can have it if he wants.” She looked over from her typing. “And why don’t you check in on Edison, see if he needs anything. And find out if Anlyn’s improved any.”

Cole took the reluctantly offered sandwich, “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it,” Walter spat as he slunk out of the cockpit.

“That boy adores you,” Cole said around his first bite of sandwich.

Molly nodded. “I know. I wish he didn’t. Not so much.” She checked over her shoulder, then leaned toward Cole. “He creeps me out sometimes,” she whispered. “Then I feel like I’m just being xenophobic.” She straightened back up and pulled the keyboard close. She considered telling her mom more about Walter, but she wasn’t sure she could stick to saying nice things.

“He makes a mean sandwich, though. Oh—” Cole swallowed, then continued, “The Bel Tra have a general layout of Drenard, but they don’t have an orbital schedule. We were kinda expecting Anlyn to guide us in. Do we wait for her to come to, or do we just cross our fingers and hope we don’t jump into a small moon or a satellite?”

Molly typed: ONE SEC_ to her mom, then switched over to the chart.

“Hmmm.” She studied the Drenard system. It was one of those charts every Naval cadet recognized in an instant. Students pored over them while dreaming of a final assault, making plans for a massive invasion that would end the war.

Drenard was a binary star system, which created some strange orbital permutations. Strange for systems with sentient life, at least. Even though binaries are an extremely common astral configuration, they lead to orbits nonconducive to the evolution of large and complex life-forms.

Without an orbital schedule, Molly could only see where the planets and stars had been when the Bel Tra scouted the system, but not the dynamics of the Lagrange points in motion. Using estimates of mass and distance gave them rough guesses, which wasn’t good enough for the exactitude safe jumping required.

“Why don’t we come in the same way we escaped from the Navy?” she suggested. “We shoot for the L1 between the two stars, a point we know doesn’t move, and someplace too unstable for debris to be hanging out.”

“Good idea,” said Cole, “but it’ll be a long burn to Drenard from there. For Anlyn, I mean.”

“Any other choice gambles with all our lives. And we could risk another short jump once we’re in-system and have a visual.”

“Good point. Okay, the hyperdrive should be spooled up in a few minutes. And just so you know, we’ll be down to less than two percent on fusion fuel when we arrive. These quick cycles are murdering our fusion supply.”

“We’ll worry about that after we get Anlyn some help. Go ahead and jump as soon as you can.” Molly switched back to her mom and scanned the screen to see where she’d left off.

“What’re you ladies gabbing about over there?” Cole asked.

“Glemot,” she said.

Cole looked over, his eyebrows raised. “Really? Huh. I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, well, I’m telling her about the planet we found, not the mess we left behind.”

Cole turned back to the nav computer, seeming to want to say something, but restraining himself.

A sad silence fell over the cockpit before Molly’s loud and rapid typing broke the spell. She concentrated on the good, withholding the bad.

A style of communication her mother knew quite well.

••••

The strangest thing about the jump into Drenard—the home system of Molly and Cole’s sworn enemy—was the naive nonchalance with which they did it. Piloting with the hubris of their youth, rather than the caution of their training, they had jumped across the front lines of a major war along unproven routes and arrival points. Desperation, and the pursuit of their own Navy, had pushed them far. Concern for their sick friend took them, unthinking, the rest of the way.

The only thing on Molly’s mind—beyond having rescued Anlyn from slavery and reuniting her with her people—was getting a friend some medical assistance. For Cole, trust had become a relative term, a commodity