The Loneliest Girl in the Universe(50)

A thought crosses my mind: warmth. I cling to it, before fear can drive it away. J’s heat sensor. If the pod is warm – if it’s giving off heat, like a human – then J won’t realize I’m here. He’ll think my heat signature is just the pod. I can hide, at least for a while.

If I’m brave enough to stay here, with my mother.

I’m deciding that I don’t really have a choice when I notice that there’s a brass plaque attached to the front of the pod: CREW MEMBER: LUCY SHOREDITCH

I trace my fingers over the engraving. Shoreditch. Like … J?

I step back and look at the pods on either side. The one on the left says: CREW MEMBER: JEREMY SHOREDITCH

These must be the names of the astronauts who were in stasis in the pods, back when The Infinity was launched.

A man and a woman. With J’s surname. Is J short for…?

I’m broken out of my thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. It’s loud, getting closer while I wasn’t paying attention – and heading towards the sick bay.

Quickly, I twist behind the pod, squeezing into the confined space between it and the wall. I drop down into a crouch and hope my heat signature blurs with the pod’s.

The footsteps stop.

“Romy.”

I stop breathing.

“I told you I’d find you.”

He won’t find me. He won’t. He’ll see the machine is running and back off. He’ll go and look for me somewhere else.

“That was a clever trick with the tunnel. I think I underestimated you.”

The footsteps get closer, stopping right in front of the pod. I breathe through my mouth, trying to make as little noise as possible.

There’s the click click click of fingernails tapping on metal. I think he’s touching the plaque, tracing the words LUCY SHOREDITCH, just like I did.

There’s an achingly long silence. Finally, he lets out a huff of laughter.

“Of course you’re hiding in here.” His voice is bitter. “Where else would you be?” He clears his throat. When he speaks again, the catch in his voice is gone. “I can see you, Romy. Hiding in my mother’s tomb.”

I know he’s not talking about me, only the shadow of the body inside. I still flush hot and then cold with fear. There’s a pause, and then, sounding slightly confused, he says, “Can you even hear me in there?”

I catch sight of his hand at the side of the pod, testing the hinge of the lock. There’s a beep, and then he pulls open the door of the pod.

“Romy, I—”

His words cut off, and he lets out a little shocked grunt.

I can’t help myself – I peer around the side of the pod just in time to watch him tilt backwards, the weight of my mother falling onto him.

As she falls, wires tear away from her skin, pinging back into the pod. J staggers, trying to hold her up, but he quickly loses his balance and crashes to the floor. My mother’s body lands right on top of him.

J tries to shove her off, but her icy skin has seared to his, like a tongue sticking to an ice cube.

As they roll across the floor, J catches sight of me. He lets out a frustrated yell. “You little—”

He’s struggling to get free, to launch himself at me. My mother’s forehead is glued to the side of his face. The skin of his cheek pulls and stretches where they touch.

I crawl out from behind the pod and run past him, ignoring his shout of anger. The cold air from the freezer hits me as I pass.

I leave my two nightmares behind me to fight it out between themselves, sprinting down the corridor. I try desperately to think. What do I do with my head start? I run as fast as I can, fighting the heavy gravity that J has tried to trap me with.

I’ve reached the airlock. The place where I first met J; where he entered my ship. I can see The Eternity through the closed doors, still connected to The Infinity.

Suddenly an idea forms. I can escape. I can take his ship. I can disconnect the two spaceships and just … go. Fly off in his ship and leave him here alone in the slower, older one.

He’ll never be able to catch up with me, not if I’m in The Eternity. It’s so fast. He wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near me.

When I press the button for the airlock, the doors slide open, one by one. As I step on board The Eternity, I feel hope for the first time in longer than I can remember. Hope, and more than that: excitement. I can do this. There’s a way out. Suddenly the odds have tipped slightly further in my favour.

I don’t give myself time to admire the futuristic design of The Eternity, its gleaming metal and mint-green walls. I run down the corridor, scanning the rooms for the helm. I need to detach the ships before J frees himself and works out what I’m doing.

The ship is so huge that I’m not going to be able to find the helm in time by just randomly running around. I stop, gasping for breath.

“Computer?” I say, hoping desperately that there’s an audio command system.

A voice immediately comes from the ceiling. “How can I help you today?” It’s robotic but obviously female: sweet and soft.

I grin around my next sentence, relieved and hysterical. “Can you detach the ship from The Infinity, please?”

“Four-letter authorization code required.”

I pause. I have no idea. Would J have set the code?

I clear my throat. “Code: Romy?” I wince, hoping that I’m right and wishing to be wrong.