was it like?”
I think about this as we make our way through the hallways. Then stop at the exit and wait for Baby to open the doors. “It was nice, Jimmy. It was… the best-case scenario, I think. It was all different. Strange, but in a familiar way, ya know? I liked it. I’d go back, if I could. I tried looking you up.”
“What?” He laughs.
“I thought you guys were there. And I knew your second name.”
“What second name?”
“Yates, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” He frowns. “That’s so weird. My whole story is weird.”
“I think I met your mother.”
“What?” That comes from everyone. Even Luck.
“Yeah. In this one… dream… time-loop thing. I was in Corla’s quarters back on Wayward Station and I met one of her handmaidens. Probably one of the sisters, I guess. Her name was Yates.”
Jimmy makes a face. “My mother was Corla’s handmaiden sister? That makes no sense. I was sixteen when we met Corla for the first time. Her sister cannot be my mother.”
“Time, dude. It’s not what we think.”
We don’t have time to think about Jimmy and his maybe mother, because the doors to the lock-up open and we suddenly have to face… well, reality. Real-time reality.
The station is no longer quiet. It’s not noisy, like normal, or anything. But at least it’s not silent anymore. We can hear the people above us going about their business. And Baby was right. No one seems to be fighting.
There are very few people down here on the lowest level. And most of them are waiting at the lock-up window, presumably trying to find someone. But the Baby has a large liftbot waiting to take us up to the museum level, and once we get on and start to ascend, people begin gathering near the edges of each level to watch us.
It feels a little bit like we’re in a memorial ceremony. Not nearly as many people, but we definitely have their undivided attention now.
“I think you should say something, Crux,” Valor says.
“Say what?” I ask.
“I dunno. Tell them we’re… handling things.”
“I’ll put you on speaker,” Baby says.
I’m about to protest, but my air screen pops out in front of me, flashing a ‘live’ icon in the middle.
“Fuck,” I mutter. The word echoes through the station. And people start murmuring back and pressing forward until they are right up against the clear plasti-glass railing on the edge of the levels.
“Your broadcast is being sent through to every room, Crux,” Baby says.
“What’s going on?” someone shouts.
“Where is everyone?”
“What happened?”
“Are we still at war?”
“Answer them,” Luck growls. “Or we’ll have a situation on our hands.”
I clear my throat. “We are at war. But not with each other. We froze time so we could… put things back in place and remember whose side we’re on.”
“Whose side is that?” they shout back at me. And when I look up, more and more people are gathering on the edges of the levels.
“Our side. There is no Luck’s side. Or princess side. Or Crux’s side. Or even ALCOR’s side. There is only Harem Station. And we are all Harem Station.”
We reach level one twenty-two and the lift bot stops. But none of us make a move to get off.
“There is a war coming,” I say, raising my voice. “They’re outside our gate at this very moment. And if we can’t pull it together, we’re all going to lose. So forget about what happened these past few months. Forget about what divides us. The only thing that matters is what unites us.”
There’s a smattering of applause. Some agreement. But also some dissent.
“I get it,” I say. “You want to know what unites us. We all came here as refugees. Some of us were escaping. Some of us were prisoners. Some of us were just outsiders, never fitting into the world out there. But here, we all fit in. There is a place for everyone on Harem Station. If you contribute, you get to stay. No questions asked. You’re not going to find another place out there like this. And I get it. This place isn’t perfect. But take my word on this, there is no perfect place. This might be as good as it gets. For all of us. We need to fight for it. We need to stick together so that when those gates open back up and our enemies come rushing through, ready to take us down—take us prisoner again—we’re ready. We can defeat them.”
“Um…” Baby says. “Well…”
“What is it?” I ask. Baby turns off the