Wells stared longingly at the cake. Maybe there would even be enough left over to bring a piece to Glass. “You’re sure he won’t mind?” He didn’t know what the Chancellor would object to more: wasting resources on something with questionable nutritional value like a cake, or recognizing a birthday at all. The ancient tradition made too much fuss over one person, exaggerating the importance of the individual when, really, it was the species that mattered. A new life was always something to celebrate, but in the Chancellor’s eyes, there was no reason to give someone a false sense of their own importance once a year.
“Of course not.” His mother sat down in the chair next to him. “Although, there’s no reason this needs to be a birthday cake. It could be a ‘congrats for being the highest-ranked student for the third year in a row’ cake. Or a ‘hooray, you finally cleaned your room’ cake.”
Wells grinned. “Is Dad going to be home soon?” The Chancellor generally worked late, coming home after Wells was already in bed. He’d hardly seen him at all the past week and was excited that the three of them might get to spend the whole evening together.
“He should be.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I told him we were having a special dinner in honor of his very special son.”
As she scooped salad into bowls, his mother asked him about his tutorials. He told her a funny story about a boy in his class who’d asked how many dinosaurs died during the Cataclysm. “Why don’t you start eating,” his mother said, when Wells’s stomach growled loudly.
Through the windows, the circadian lights were beginning to dim. His mother didn’t say anything, but her smiles became a little tighter, her laughter a little more forced. Finally, she reached over and squeezed Wells’s hand. “I think your father must’ve gotten held up. Let’s dig in to that cake now, okay?”
“Sure,” Wells said, doing his best to keep his voice cheerful, although he purposefully avoided his mother’s eyes. The cake was rich and sweet, but Wells was so focused on keeping his disappointment from his face that he hardly tasted it. He knew it wasn’t his father’s fault. As the Chancellor, he wasn’t just in charge of the well-being and safety of everyone in the Colony. He was responsible for the future of the human race. His primary duty was ensuring that the species survived long enough to make it back to Earth. Whatever was keeping him at work took precedence over his son’s birthday.
He felt a pang of guilt as he imagined his father sitting alone in his office, his face weary as he pored over the latest round of troubling reports, unable to appreciate the priceless relics that made the room Wells’s favorite place on the whole ship. He wouldn’t stop to look at the stuffed eagle, or take a moment to admire the painting of the dark-haired woman with the mysterious smile. The only relic he might catch a glimpse of was the pen holder inscribed with the ancient phrase Non Nobis Solum Nati Sumus. “We are not born for ourselves alone,” a quote from a Roman writer named Cicero.
The door opened, and Wells’s father walked in. Even though he was clearly exhausted, his back was straight and his stride purposeful. He looked from Wells’s mother to the half-eaten cake on the table and sighed. “I’m sorry. The Council meeting ran later than expected. I couldn’t get Brisbane to sign off on the new security measures on Walden.”
“That’s okay.” Wells rose to his feet so quickly, he jostled the table and sent the dishes teetering. “We saved you some cake.”
“I still have some more work to do.” He kissed Wells’s mother on the cheek and gave Wells a curt nod. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” Wells said, wondering if the hint of sadness in his father’s eyes was just his imagination.
The Chancellor disappeared into his study before another question arose, uninvited, in Wells’s mind. If his father had been tied up with Brisbane, why had Wells seen the Council member hours earlier on A deck?
Wells’s stomach twisted as an unfamiliar and uncomfortable realization passed over him.
His father was lying.
“Okay,” Wells said, nodding at Sasha. “But if it’s just the two of us, I’ll need to tie you to me, so you can’t bolt once we’re in the woods.”
“Fine.” She stood up and extended her hands.
Wells winced when he saw the red sores on her wrist where the rope had rubbed her skin away. “I’ll use the metal cuffs this time. They’ll be less irritating.” He fetched the cuffs from the supply tent, then took some bandages, which he wrapped around Sasha’s right wrist before locking one of the cuffs to it. He paused a moment, then snapped the other cuff to his own left wrist, taking care to tuck the key deep inside his pocket. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded, and after glancing around the clearing to make sure no one was watching, he led her across the tree line, shortening his step when the bite of the metal let him know he was moving too quickly.
Walking together became trickier once they were in the woods. While Wells had to slow down to navigate exposed roots and moss-covered rocks, Sasha sped up, springing lightly over the same obstacles. Wells couldn’t take a step without making a noise, but Sasha moved as gracefully and silently as a deer. This was clearly land she had crossed many times. He wondered what it was like to know a section of forest as intimately as you knew another person, lifting your foot over a fallen log as naturally as you might take someone’s hand.
Soon, she was leading Wells down a hill he’d never seen before, where the trees were thinner and the grass grew higher, almost up to their knees. Her long braid had come loose, and her dark hair rippled down her back.
“Do you think they’re worried about you?” he said finally.
At first, he wasn’t sure Sasha had heard him, because she didn’t turn around or break stride. But the chain connecting them trembled slightly. “Worried… and furious,” she said. “We were ordered to stay away from you, but I had to see for myself.” Wells lengthened his step so they were walking side by side for the first time. “I’ve spent my whole life imagining what it was like in space, what you were all like. I didn’t really get to know the people in the first group. I barely got to talk to any of them. So then when you all came down, I wasn’t going to miss my chance.”