Chapter 1

“Are you ready, Marek?”

“As ready as I was 5 minutes ago when you last asked me, Linden.”

Linden slowed to a halt, and twisted his gaunt frame to look intently at Marek. His slouched shoulders served to emphasize the pronounced hunch in his back. Linden’s slight physique had not adjusted well to the increased planetary gravity on Prime. In contrast, his companions, Marek and Lewis, suffered no such affliction. With the exception of their greater stature and the crescent shaped tattoo on their foreheads, they were virtually indistinguishable from the local ‘Primers’. Marek and Lewis slowed with Linden, and the three formed a small wedge of stability in the sea of surging people.

With a sincerity bordering on tears, Linden grabbed Marek’s shoulder, and stammered, “I’m s-sorry Marek. But this is important. This is-is our future. This is-is life. Or. Death. We need to be ready. You n-n-need to be ready.”

“Linden. I know that. Don’t you think that I know that? We all know. But there’s nothing to do now but take the test. There’s no time for anything else.”

“B-But what if – if –”, Linden stuttered.

Lewis stepped closer. “Guys. Relax. Everyone knows Linden is going to Sargon. And Marek, you’re an even better pilot than me. We’re no meat.” Lewis flashed a winning smile. He beckoned them even closer, and as they leaned in, looked each carefully in the eye, and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “You could both use a shower though. You smell like Gargoyle from aeronautics.” Lewis leaned back, and burst into a howl of laughter.

Linden gave a sniff and met Marek’s eye. “I don’t smell.” As Marek stared at Linden, a smile began to creep across his lips. Seconds later he was doubled over, laughing. “Gargoyle!?!”

Linden stood up straight, as straight as his weak muscles would allow under the increased gravity. With a deadpan expression he insisted, “Guys, I don’t smell!” Linden smirked. “But Marek does.” Linden’s high nasally laugh rose up and joined Lewis and Marek’s baritone.

The three, herded close together, continued to laugh as the crowds pressed past. Nearby, someone mutter in irritation, “Shirking luners”. As their laughing subsided, Lewis grabbed Linden and Marek by the shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Come on boys. Let’s go. We have our futures to settle.” And with that, they made their way through the crowds, feeling at least for the time being that their hearts were light again, as light as back on the moon.