Genesis (2 page)

“This has anti-collision, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but …” Juli sounded reluctant.

“Please.” Rosie felt bad about pressuring her, but she didn’t want to see that look on her dad’s face again. “My dad’s really strict. He’ll go streamlined if I’m late.”

“Okay,” Juli said. “I guess I am an awesome driver.” She smiled and steered the boat further out from the bank, revving the throttle.

“Thanks.” Rosie put the sights down and watched the ferry move slowly upriver, away from the energy plant where it had picked up its human cargo. She didn’t want to think about what might happen if her dad got home first.

They picked up speed and the hull started to jump then smack back down in the water, pushing up a mist of spray, but it wasn’t enough. The ferry was bigger and faster.

“It’s catching up,” Rosie said.

“I’m trying,” Juli glanced at her, “but I don’t think we’re going to beat it.”

Rosie stood next to Juli, hanging onto the low console.

“Sorry,” Juli said. “Maybe you can tell him you were at the library in Central or something.”

Rosie shook her head. It didn’t matter what she said – late was late. No excuse was ever enough any more – not since Mum died.

They were coming to the bend in the river that swung up and around towards the Banks jetty. The ferry was level with them now, and a minute later it was past, the waves from its wash making the boat rock.

“I’ll let you out at the floating markets,” Juli said. “If you run, you might make it.”

Rosie didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t make it; there wasn’t enough time. She watched the ferry docking, the water churning and the engine chugging as it turned and bumped against the jetty. A small crowd of people was waiting on the jetty: wives meeting husbands, with children behind them; street vendors selling noodles in watery soup. Recyc water, of course. The knot in Rosie’s stomach tightened and she turned away as Juli slowed the boat to enter the narrow channels of the floating market.

The market was a collection of interconnected floating jetties and shacks that stretched out into the river and was the selling hub for the poor. The mass of wooden huts and planks housed generations of families who had arrived from all over after the Melt. A few vendors called out to them as they passed, shouting the prices of noodles, dried seaweed or chillies. Curious children stared at them from behind the strips of cloth used as doors, and gaunt-faced people paddled canoes made from discarded containers up and down the narrow canals.

The people who lived here were poorer even than her – but not by much, she thought, not by much.

Juli guided the boat to the left to let a canoe slip past. “Where do you want to get out?”

“Just here.” Rosie pointed to a jetty where a seaweed vendor was setting up shop. Juli turned the boat across the channel and headed up the canal.

The sun was lower and the light starting to turn pink as they bumped up alongside the jetty. Juli opened the bubble and grimaced as the stench of something rotting hit them.

“What is that?” She held a hand over her nose.

“Drying weed,” Rosie said, trying to breathe only through her mouth. It wasn’t an unusual smell in the Banks. “It a geno breed that’s got protein in it,” she said. “It’s what they sell around here.”

“Remind me not to tell my parents to eat out here,” Juli said. “Hey, you’ve got the box, haven’t you?” As Rosie nodded, she added, “Do you want to come over tomorrow and open it at my house?”

Rosie hesitated. She had wanted to find out what was in it on her own, but how could she say no?

“Sure. I’ll come over tomorrow morning, after Dad goes to work. Is that all right?”

“Total super!” Juli smiled. “I live in Central East, Darling Grove, number six. Just type my last name into the security pad.”

“Okay.” Rosie stepped onto the jetty.

“Wait.” Juli pulled a blue plas disc from her pocket. “Take this – you won’t have to pay for the shuttle.”

It was a transport token for all city transport and the blue meant it was valid for a month. Tokens were expensive. More than her dad could afford. “That’s okay – I can pay for it.”

“Don’t be moony, Rosie, take it.” Juli thrust it at her. “I’ll say I lost it if Mum asks. Go on.”

Reluctantly, Rosie took the token, putting it in her pocket. “Thanks.”

Juli gave her a smile. “You better hurry if you want to make it home before your dad.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Juli was already backing the boat up and Rosie stood for a moment watching, wanting to jump back in. She knew it was too late. Dad would get home before her, but the longer she took, the worse it would be. With a last wave at Juli, she gripped the straps of her pack and ran up the jetty, the weight of the box bumping against her back.

It was dark by the time she made it home and Rosie opened the door carefully. There were no lights on. A dull bass thump of music came from next door and the sounds of families getting ready for dinner echoed through the rest of the apartment building: doors banged and children shouted, but inside her apartment it was silent.

She walked inside and closed the door, pressing the light panel. Dim yellow light flickered on, buzzing and erratic.

Her dad was sitting on the couch, his thin frame hunched over, staring at their old photo album. The digital stills created an eerie blue glow across his face.

“Dad?” Her voice sounded small and wavering. He didn’t seem to hear her. “Dad, I’m home.”

He looked up and it seemed he was coming back from somewhere very far away, but then his gaze focused and he was up and off the couch and coming towards her, hands reaching.

“Rosie, where have you been?”

She couldn’t help cringing back as he gripped her arm.

“Nowhere, just out with a friend. It’s school holidays, remember?”

“Holidays?” He frowned. There were dark circles under his eyes and she could smell something sour on his breath. “But it’s late, Rosie … I didn’t know where you were. Something could have happened.”

“Nothing happened, Dad. I’m fine.”

He hugged her tightly, pressing her face against his rough shirt. “There are people out there, bad people … What if something happened to you? What would I do? You must, must,” he squeezed her tighter with each word, “come home earlier.”

“Yeah, all right.” He was suffocating her. She pushed away and headed for her room.

“Rosie …” His voice was pleading and it made her feel tired and hollow, but she didn’t turn around.

“I’ll be out in a minute, Dad.” She kept moving towards her bedroom, trying not to see the images of her mother in the open album.

“Rosie …”

Why did he always have to do this? She pushed open the door of her room and slammed it shut behind her, removing her pack and sliding down the door to the floor.

Her chest was tight and she sat for a while staring at the dirty rug. The room was so small, her feet were jammed up against the legs of her bed. The grit from the floor stuck to her palms. It was hot and stuffy and she pulled her long-sleeved shirt off so she wore just a singlet.

She heard him walk across the floor, the squeak of couch springs, then silence. He was looking at the album again. Tears pricked at her eyes and she rubbed at them with the heel of her hand.
There’s no use crying, Rosie Black
. Her mum’s voice was in her head like it often was when she was upset.
Tears don’t fix anything
. But what did? Staring at pictures didn’t bring people back either.

Rosie had never seen her mum cry, not even at the end when the MalX had taken so much of her. It had been like looking at a ghost, a pale wraith of what she used to be. Except for her eyes – you could still see her in them, right to the end. That was the cruel thing about the MalX: it ravaged the body but left the mind intact – unless you could afford cortivide, the drug that separated the pain from the mind. But they hadn’t had enough credit for that.

Concentrate on something else, she told herself. She removed the box from her pack and put it on her lap. Rosie ran her fingers over the design on the lid, tracing the lines coming out from the half-sun. Where had she seen the design before? She got up and pulled a battered reader off the shelf above her bed then searched the list of contents. There.
Space Explorations: Cosmic Companies
. She selected the code and a second later the revolving emblem of Orbitcorp, a blue planet struck across with a glittering trail of space dust, appeared on the screen. She scanned all the different companies owned by them: Geogalactic Rovers, Martian Gear Inc, Southern Skies Robotics and so many more. But none of them had an emblem anything like the one on the box.

Her stomach growled but she ignored it. Eating would mean she’d have to face her dad again. She’d wait. He’d get tired soon, and then she could go cook some rice or something. For a moment she had a painful vision of her mother in the kitchen, humming like she used to, with long brown hair, just like Rosie’s own, clipped up, and messy curls floating down around her face as she made dinner. She’d always managed to get them vegetables once or twice a week.

No, don’t think about it.

Rosie looked back down at the box. What was that logo? She tapped her fingers on the lid. Perhaps Aunt Essie could help. She slipped her hand down between the bed and the wall to her secret hiding place and pulled out the palm-size com her aunt had given her.

The small screen flickered into life as she typed in the code for her aunt.

Aunt Essie was her father’s younger sister. She had short spiky hair, wore tight pants and swore a lot. She didn’t visit very often, just birthdays and some weekends, but she paid for Rosie to go to school at Central and she’d given her the com not long after her mum died. Call me whenever you need to, she’d said. One day Rosie hoped she might be able to pay her back.

Keeping an ear out for her dad, Rosie switched the com to silent and watched the bouncing triangle on the screen as the signal was transmitted.

The triangle changed to a star then faded to be replaced by a circling image of planets. A line of text popped up.

Hey, how are you?

Rosie smiled. Aunt Essie must be on the space station. If she was at home, she’d have been able to see her.

Hi
, Rosie typed back.
You in space?

Yep. What’s up? You okay?

Rosie thought about telling her about Dad and the album again, but decided against it.

I’m okay but have a question. You might be able to help
.

Boy trouble?

As if. Since Rosie had beaten the most popular boy in her class on the flight simulator, most of the others had treated her like a Feral – fringed her out. Apparently, girls weren’t supposed to be better pilots than boys.

Just a project I’m working on
, she typed.

During the hols?

Just something to keep busy
, she hedged.
I’m checking out all the interstellar travel companies and stuff, for future reference. When are you coming home? Can I look through your research files?

Sure. Not even in the Academy yet and you’re looking for a job!

Rosie smiled.
Thanks
, she typed.
When are you back?

Back ES Tue. Meet me at Orbitcorp 0900. You can stay the night – I’ll square it with your dad
.

Earth side, Rosie deciphered, and Tuesday was two days away. Maybe she could get there early and see the shuttle land. She’d seen it come in twice before but never got tired of it. She was about to type
okay
into the com when there was a soft knock at her door.

“Rosie?” Her dad called through the thin barrier. “I made dinner. Come get it before it’s cold.”

She stilled in surprise. He hardly ever cooked. This could be good or it could be painful.

“Um, I’ll be out in a second.” She finished typing and signed off, then hid the com and the box between the bed and the wall. The last time her dad had made dinner he’d broken down halfway through eating it. The sight of the few vegetables Rosie had managed to get for them had done him in. Seeing him cry was awful.

Rosie got off her bed. She smoothed her hair down then opened the door. He wasn’t hovering. He was setting the table. In the middle was a bowl, steam curling out of it. He looked up from putting plates of rice down and she saw he’d washed his face and brushed his hair – even shaved.

“It’s your favourite,” he said. “Soy chilli.”

Rosie went to the table and sat down. “Smells good.” She tried to sound neutral, casual, as if this was normal stuff they did every day.

He smiled, a small fragile smile, and sat opposite her. She caught a whiff of cheap aftershave. Something caught in her chest, a grabbing tightness that moved up her throat as it sparked a memory she wasn’t ready for. What Dad was like before. The forgotten sound of him laughing. She clenched her hands in her lap.

“I even got some carrots,” he said. “Fellow at work traded some for–” His words faltered as he saw her face. “Anyway, have some – it’s not bad. I think.”

She spooned some chilli onto her plate.

“So did you do anything today?” he said. “Go anywhere?”

“Um, yeah, you know, just out, with a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Juli, from school.”

“Great. That’s great.” His tone was too bright. “Are you going out tomorrow?”

She felt the tightness in her throat get worse and struggled to swallow a mouthful of chilli. “I’m going over to her house.”

“Great.” He nodded and moved his spoon around in his bowl. “And where does she live?”

“Central East.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Moving uptown.” His tone was still bright but his hand shook as he let go of the spoon.

“Uh-huh.” Rosie felt what appetite she had slip away. He was trying too hard and it hurt to watch. The emptiness of the missing person in their lives hung between them like smoke that wouldn’t clear. She took a breath, not knowing what to say. “Dad–”

“Rosie,” he rushed in before her. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was … having a bad moment.” He leaned forward slightly. “But I’m okay now. Well, I’m … look, it’s hard. Your mother–” He stopped. “I’m trying, it’s just–”