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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2015 by Vicki L. Weavil

  Facsimile by Vicki L. Weavil

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by Month9Books, LLC.

  Cover design by KimG-design.com

  Cover Copyright © 2015 Month9Books

  Dedicated to the memory of my father,

  John Frederick Lemp, Jr.

  1928-2014

  A brilliant scientist.

  A loving father, husband, grandfather, brother, and friend.

  A man respected by all who knew him.

  Thanks for everything, Dad.

  A silver form streaks through the azure sky, trailing a flag of flame. The dusting of sand that covers this world of stone swirls around my boots as I climb to my feet.

  A ship coming in for a landing.

  I run to my solar bike, stuffing two small stones into the pockets of my jeans. The crystals, the color of amethyst, are worthless. But I’ve traded similar rocks for items of value in the past. Perhaps I’ll get lucky again.

  Kicking the bike’s motor into gear, I speed toward the compound. Wisps of my dark hair whip into my face as I lean over the handlebars. I’m not wearing my helmet, which is worth at least one lecture apiece from my parents and grandparents. But I don’t fear a spill, as there’s nothing to unseat me. This is Eco—a planet whose landscape consists of large outcroppings of black stone and the occasional twisted tangle of brown vines. Easy enough to spot and avoid.

  I spin the bike to a stop just outside the fence that encloses our colony. No large creatures or other dangerous entities roam Eco, so the fence merely marks the boundary between the compound and the rest of the planet. Behind the gates are patches of grass and a few stunted trees—remnants of the terraforming begun by my grandparents and the rest of their crew. The entire planet was to be transformed into a semblance of Earth’s most beautiful landscapes, but that was before. Before the NewSkies Corporation went bankrupt and stranded one hundred and thirty terraformers on a planet with breathable air and substantial underground reservoirs of water—but no arable soil.

  I slip through the gate and make my way past our small herd of goats. Their paddock is enclosed beneath a dome of porous plastic that allows air in but traps the goats alongside the chickens strutting about the dusty yard. Although we don’t worry about predators, we can’t afford to lose any of our animals to the wild. They’ve been carefully bred from their cloned originals, and their milk and eggs are one of the few shields wedged between our colony and starvation.

  I lean my bike against the back of the greenhouse that encloses our hydroponic gardens and slap the dust off my thin polysteel jacket, staring over the back gate toward a ribbon of smoothed stone that lies just outside the fence. The beaten-down strip serves as a runway for spacecraft visiting Eco. A pewter-colored ship sits silently on the tarmac, and several figures scramble about its cargo hold.

  The back door of the greenhouse flies open. “Anna-Maria.” My grandmother’s tone is as sharp as her hawk nose. “Where did you gallivant off to? I’ve been holo’ing you for the last hour.”

  My grandmother is Paloma Solano, botanist and member of the original terraforming team. She is also one of the few people I fear—and love.

  “Sorry. Didn’t have my holo turned on.” I can read the suspicion in my grandmother’s dark eyes. “Did you need my help? I was just going to check out the trader, see if there was anything I could barter … ”

  “No rush.” Grandmother turns her head. Despite the centuries, my grandparents’ heritage is unmistakable. Even though e-school history lessons have taught me that Peru is no more, absorbed into the South American Alliance, my grandparents’ profiles display the stamp of their Incan ancestors. “Apparently our visitor’s having trouble with his environmental controls. This ship will be stuck here while they attempt some repairs.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” I lift my foot and examine the sole of my boot, using my fingernail to flick out a pebble.

  “Plenty of time for you to trade some worthless crystals for credits.”

  I plant my foot back on the ground and raise my eyes to meet my grandmother’s imperious stare. “Is it my fault if people assume things? I never tell them the crystals are actually valuable.”

  “And you never say they’re not. Never mind, nieta—most of these traders deserve to be scammed.” Grandmother shields her eyes with one hand as she turns her gaze on the parked spacecraft. “God knows they cheat us often enough. Now I could use your help for a moment, Anna-Maria.”

  “Ann.” I constantly resist my grandmother’s use of my given name. She persists in ignoring me.

  She glances at me with raised eyebrows but offers no argument. “Come and assist me with a bit of tubing. You know my fingers don’t work as well as they should.”

  I follow her into the greenhouse, where rows of black bins are shadowed by a canopy of plants suspended from a metal grid. The smell of the nutrient fluid mixed with the odors of the growing plants makes me sniffle. I press my hand against my damp forehead. Although I work here almost every day, I can’t adjust to the humidity. I resent the steamy air that drapes over me, heavy as a blanket. It’s like a vise—or a trap.

  “There.” My grandmother points to one of the bins. “I can’t seem to grab hold of that feed line properly. Can you pass it up to me?”

  I roll back my jacket sleeve. “There’s reason number three million four hundred fifty-five thousand why we need to get off this planet. If we were on Earth, we wouldn’t have to grow our own food. At least not in a greenhouse. Don’t you get sick of it, abuelita, constantly fussing over these plants?”

  “Earth’s no different.” Grandmother’s dark eyes rake over me. “You think there’s unlimited land left for farming? Most food there is grown hydroponically, just like ours. Where do you think I learned to manage all this?” She sweeps one arm in a circle, indicating the rows of crops.

  I dip my hand into the tub and fish around until my fingers close around the nutrient tube trapped under piece of the drain tray. “I thought the NewSkies Corporation trained you when you signed up to terraform Eco.”

  “They taught me the science. But I already knew the practicalities. I worked in greenhouses on Earth, you know, when I was younger than you. I had to. No one was handing out credits on the street corner.” She takes the freed line from my fingers and threads it through a maze of plastic tubing. “Why do you think we took NewSkies’s offer? There was nothing for your grandfather and me on Earth except to work crap jobs and live crammed into some tiny apartment with other members of our family. I’ve told you this before, nieta, but you tend to tune me out. At least when it involves any stories about Earth that don’t paint it as a paradise.” Her black eyes narrow as she ties off the tube at just the right angle to feed one tomato plant.

  I flip back my heavy braid. Sadly, my brown hair never darkened to match my grandmother’s short locks. Although she’s over sixty, only a few threads of gray, pale as the meteors that dash across Eco’s night sky, streak her black hair. “I don’t think Earth is perfect—you and Grandfather constantly remind me
of the problems you faced as kids—but it is home. I mean, you were only contracted to stay here for ten years. Then you were going to head back to Earth with a big pile of credits. Say what you want about making the best of things, you gotta admit that you never planned to make Eco your permanent home. If NewSkies hadn’t left you stranded, Dad would’ve been raised on Earth. He wasn’t supposed to live here—and I sure wasn’t meant to be born here.”

  My grandmother straightens and stares at me as if seeking some secret in my eyes. “You might not have been born at all, Anna-Maria, if it weren’t for Eco.”

  “Is that all you needed?” I wipe my hands on my jeans. I have no interest in discussing my parents’ less than ideal relationship. Eco may have brought them together, but it’s also one of the main reasons they fight. Like me, my mom talks incessantly of leaving our isolated planet, while my dad seems content to stay.

  “Yes, I suppose. Run along then. Check out these traders and see what you can pry from their greedy paws. But Anna-Maria,” my grandmother fixes me with one of her piercing stares, “don’t expect miracles. You know most of these ships can’t carry any extra passengers, even if we could afford passage.”

  I waggle my fingers at her. “I know. See you later!” I dash out of the greenhouse before she can respond.

  The public space of the compound is a cluster of metal-clad buildings that lean into each other like drunken revelers. I duck into the recreation hall, tracking my friends by the thump of bass and whine of synthesized guitars. I make my way to the back of the hall—to the game room, its walls papered with wafer-thin holo screens. A jumble of pillows and low gamer chairs, piled high with discarded headpieces and controller gloves, clutter the room. Slouched into one pile of cushions is a boy with hair the color of a sunset sky. Nestled in his pale, freckled arms is my best friend, Emeline Winston.

  “Ann.” Emie sits up and runs her fingers through her dark curls. “Hear the news?”

  “What’s that? Hey, Kam.”

  The boy grunts at me. A real conversationalist, Kameron Frye.

  “Well,” Emie bats Kam’s hand away as he reaches for her waist, “apparently, a member of the ship’s crew is our age. The nephew of the captain, or some such thing.”

  “A seventeen-year-old crew member?” I perch on the edge of a battered table. “That’s new.”

  Emie sits forward and wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, usually it’s skuzzy old guys.”

  “And women,” says Kam. He grimaces. “If you can call them that.”

  Emie’s hands rest on Kam’s knees. Her warm brown coloring makes his milky skin look anemic by comparison. “Well, most of the younger people are still in the service, I guess. Can’t even get a berth unless you’ve mustered out, and that’s years.”

  “Poor jerks.” Kam leans into Emie’s back and nips at her ear.

  “Oh, and we’re better off?” Although there are few people close to our age in the colony, I’m convinced Emie can do better than Kameron Frye. Apprenticed to our colony’s computer and communications expert when she was only fourteen, Emie studies every available holodisc, while Kam barely glances at anything educational. I can’t imagine what they talk about when alone. Well, to be honest, I suspect a serious lack of conversation in their relationship.

  “Hell, yeah,” says Kam, unceremoniously sliding Emie off his lap. He stands and stretches, the gap between his shirt and pants exposing a well-muscled expanse of pale skin.

  I want to tell him to forget the display, that I have no interest in his torso or any other part of his anatomy, but I bite my tongue. No use upsetting Emie. “Guess that’s a matter of opinion.”

  Emie leans into the cushions, adjusting her position gracefully, as if she’d intended to be dumped to the side. “Well, maybe I’ll have to check this guy out. Someone new—could be interesting.”

  “Calm down, Emie,” says Kam. “You don’t even know if this dude is a one-hundred-percenter.”

  “Oh who cares?” Emie slumps back into the cushions.

  “You should. Want to end up with some cyber or spacer?”

  Emie frowns darkly. “Those Earth laws are crap. We’ve talked about this before.” Her eyes narrow as she glances up at Kam. “Or weren’t you listening?”

  “Not after the zillionth time you mentioned it.” Kam crosses his arms over his chest. “Had to tune it out.”

  I grimace, praying Kam’s remark won’t set Emie off. Her meltdown after her research uncovered the truth about Earth’s genetic purity laws is legendary. Of course, everyone on Eco has always been aware of the existence of the laws, but our basic educational materials don’t dwell on the details. The holodiscs simply mention that the citizens of Earth must carry a file verifying they were born of human parents or risk deportation. Not a problem for me or my family, since everyone on Eco is a “one-hundred-percenter.” Our colony isn’t home to clones, androids, or others affected by the laws. We occasionally encounter them among the spacer crews that land on Eco, but most colonists avoid prolonged contact with such creatures.

  Not Emie. Fueled by her discovery that the laws were enacted primarily to rid the Earth of some of its excess population, she’s launched a one-girl crusade to expose the flaws in the regulations. She’s particularly incensed by the fact that the laws affect “cybers”—a label slapped on anyone who is over twenty percent cybernetic body parts. Cybers can’t be one-hundred-percenters, even though they’re born as human as anyone on Earth or Eco.

  Kam’s green eyes glitter as he stares at Emie. “Whatever. Just be glad we’re verified humans. We can live on Earth if we want.”

  “Not the point.” Emie studies Kam with the concentration she usually reserves for her digital circuitry. “When one group is oppressed … ”

  “Not that again.” Kam grabs his head with both hands and lets out an exaggerated groan. “You’ll be granting rights to aliens next.”

  I’m proud to be a one-hundred-percenter, but Kam’s obsession with this subject makes my hands twitch. “Mierda! Emie knows they don’t exist.”

  It’s true. After all the stories and films and games, after all our imaginings of aliens, we haven’t stumbled over any such beings. Yes, we’ve discovered some creatures on other planets. But none have matched human sentience. In space, traveling from planet to planet, we are alone. I blink, unsure, as always, why that idea makes my eyes water.

  Emie tosses her head. “Anyway, I’m just talking about flirting. A little fun. Not like I plan to have his babies. Got our bioplants to prevent that, thank goodness.” She swings one hand, slapping Kam’s bare arm. “Or I wouldn’t be fooling around with you.”

  “Yeah, right.” Kam grabs her flailing arm and pulls her to his side. He doesn’t see the troubled look in Emie’s eyes. But I do. Yes, my friend. You can do better.

  “Anyway, Ann,” Emie tilts her body so there’s a hands-width between her and Kam, “I heard your father invite the captain to dinner. Along with his nephew. So I guess you’ll get all the info.” There’s no disguising the envy in her voice.

  I shrug. “Come if you want. I certainly don’t give two raps about some guy from a trade ship.”

  “Well, that’s good,” says a voice behind me.

  I turn to face the speaker. At eighteen, Raiden Lin is six feet of lean, toned muscle and lethal energy. Descended from ancestors who thrived amid the extremes of the Himalayas, his eyes are as dark and silky as his hair, and his smile turns most girls into gibbering fools.

  Most girls. I face him down, feet planted apart. “Not that it’s any of your business, Raid.”

  “Isn’t it?” Feathery dark brows lift over his black eyes. For a moment I’m distracted by the perfect fringe of his eyelashes and his amused smile. I recall the feel of those lips—that strong, sensual pressure that belies the soft curves of his mouth. Shaking my head, I look away. Everyone on Eco’s convinced Raiden Lin and I are destined to marry, or at least to live together. He’s just the right age, and
we’re well matched in intellect and interests. But despite the pleasure I’ve experienced from his kisses, I’m determined to hold Raid at arm’s length. I’m getting off Eco as soon as possible. Somehow I’ll find a way to pay for passage on one of the ships that trade their goods for our fresh produce. I don’t care if my family and I only take the clothes on our backs, as long as we get back to Earth—back home. I’m willing to leave everything behind.

  Except my heart.

  “You’re such a liar.” Raid smoothes back the wisps of damp hair clinging to my forehead. “Don’t know why I waste my time on you, Ann Solano.”

  “Who else is there?” My tone teases, but I’m deadly serious. Our colony’s small by necessity. Our infrastructure can only support a certain number of people, so births are carefully controlled to balance the need for population replacement with resources. Even considering the youngest teens, there are few girls close to Raid’s age. It’s not as if he has the whole universe to choose from.

  “Well, there’s Emie.” Raid’s dark eyes examine my mouth in a way I find entirely too inviting.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Kam drops the game controller he’s been fondling.

  I make a face at Raid. “Emie’s spoken for, and you know it. Kam will knock your head off if you make a move on her.”

  “Damn straight,” says Kam.

  Raid strokes the line of my jaw with one finger. “Chill, dude. I’m just revving Ann’s engines.”

  “And talking about me like I’m not here,” says Emie. “So sweet. Thanks.”

  I look over at my friend. It’s true her boyfriend would likely deck Raid over any flirtation, but I’ve often wondered if Emie and Raid weren’t the better match.

  I’ll miss her when I leave Eco. The one person I can talk to about anything. But maybe my leaving will benefit her—Raid’s certainly a better boyfriend than Kam. Emie will have more options once I’ve shaken the dust of this rock off my feet. I smother a twinge of jealousy at this thought. I know I like Raid a little too much for my own good, but I can’t allow my feelings for him to alter the trajectory of my life. “Anyway, since it seems the parents have invited guests to dinner, I’d better go and clean up.”