Read Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet Online

Authors: Rachel Searles

Tags: #Retail, #YA 09+

Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet (2 page)

BOOK: Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet
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Attacked?
A flicker of the earlier urgency surfaced, but with no details attached, it felt meaningless.

“And you really don't remember anything at all?” the doctor asked. “Not even a partial memory or an image?”

Chase closed his eyes and willed himself to remember, but his mind was maddeningly empty. He shook his head.

“I'd like you to stay here for the time being. We don't know what happened to you or who did it. If there's one place I know you'll be safe, it's here at the Kaplan compound. Sound good?”

Chase hesitated. “Isn't there someone that I should contact for help? To see if anyone's looking for me?”

Dr. Silvestri held Chase's gaze for a long moment. It looked almost like there was something important that he wanted to say, but he gave a quick sigh and smiled. “Let me handle everything for now. I'll run a search on your name in the local databases, see what I can find.”

He dug into his equipment, pulling out a clear vial. “I'm going to give you something that'll make you feel a lot better. Get some rest, and I'll be back in touch as soon as I know anything.” He slipped the vial into a slim metal cylinder with a flat disk on one end, and pressed it against the inside of Chase's right elbow.

A peaceful sleepiness rushed over Chase as the medicine kicked in. He was safe. The chip held the answers. The doctor would help him.

“I'll see you very soon,” said Dr. Silvestri as he stood. “Don't worry. You've survived the worst already. We'll figure this out.” He walked out of the room, turning off the light as he went.

With every beat of his heart, Chase could feel himself floating farther away. The last thing he saw was a silhouette standing in the door frame, and then he slipped into the blackness.

 

CHAPTER TWO

In the darkened room, Chase drifted in and out of awareness, oblivious to time or worry. Was it hours that passed? Days? When the pieces of his consciousness began to reassemble, he stared at the ceiling in blank confusion for a few moments. Then he remembered: Parker, the doctor, the microchip … and his missing memory, an unanswerable question looming before him.

He climbed out of bed and fumbled his way through the darkness, groping along the wall until he found a door. The room opened into a hallway, bright with daylight from high frosted windows. Squinting, Chase looked down and noticed he was wearing soft gray pajamas.

He headed down the hall, and at the end he came to a wide room filled with sleek, comfortable furniture. More frosted windows filled the room with airy light, and like the hall, it was silent and empty. Where were the people who lived in this house? Chase sat down on one of the couches for a moment to think. It occurred to him that he could find the front door and leave, but where would he go? He wondered where Dr. Silvestri had gone, and how soon he could talk to him again.

“Finally, you're awake.”

Chase whirled around in surprise. Parker stood in the doorway, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. “I thought you were going to sleep forever. How's your head?”

Chase's hand crept up to the bandage on the back of his head. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about his injury, but he had. The pain was completely gone. “Feels okay, I guess.”

“Do you remember who I am?”

“Um, Parker, right?” For a second, Chase doubted his answer.

Parker nodded. “So who are you?”

“I'm … Chase.”

“And where are you from?” The question followed quickly, as if Parker was testing him.

Chase opened his mouth to reply and closed it with the confused expression it seemed he was constantly wearing. “I don't remember.”

Something like a smirk crossed Parker's face. “Well, that sucks. But at least you can remember my name.” Seeing Chase's frown, he added, “What I mean is, whatever brain damage you've got, at least you're able to make new memories. That's good, right?”

This was true, but there was something annoying about the way Parker mentioned brain damage, like it was only a sprained ankle. And why was he talking like he was some kind of memory expert? Chase crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Where's everyone else?”

Parker had started toward a shiny black panel on the wall, but he glanced back and raised his eyebrows. “Everyone who?”

“The other people who live here, I don't know. Your parents?”

“My parents are dead.”

Chase ducked his head, cheeks burning. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don't be. They've been dead a long time. I live alone.”

“Alone? You're, like, thirteen.”

“Fourteen,” corrected Parker. He shrugged and turned back to the panel.

That had to be a lie. No way was a kid that young living by himself. “Dr. Silvestri said this was someone else's home. Asa something.”

“Kaplan.” Parker tapped something on the panel, his back to Chase. “Yeah. Technically it's his estate here on Trucon.”

“He doesn't live here? Is he your uncle or something?”

Parker sighed, and after a minute Chase thought he was going to ignore the question. Finally he turned around. “Asa owns some big tech corporation. My parents used to work for him. They died in an accident when I was a baby, and Asa took me in as his ward and sent me to live at this compound. But he's never lived here.”

“How can you just stay here by yourself? What do you do all day?” asked Chase. “Do you go to school?”

Parker made an exasperated face. “No. There's plenty of stuff to do. I study, I play games. I eat, I sleep. Whatever normal people do.” He leaned against the wall and narrowed his eyes. “What do
you
do all day?”

Chase's mind automatically reached for the answer to that question, and again hit a blank. He frowned and shook his head.

“So what does ‘guide the star' mean?”

“I don't know.” Chase felt stupid admitting that he had no idea what it meant when he was the one who'd said it.

“Try harder. Can't you dig up any personal memories at all?”

Did Parker think he wasn't trying hard enough? “No. Where's Dr. Silvestri?”

“At his home, I assume. How about any type of strong feelings? Do you remember any fear? Anger?”

“No,” snapped Chase. “Will you let up? I don't remember anything at all, and you're not helping.”

Parker looked surprised for a moment, and then his face closed, as though he'd drawn a curtain over it. “Fine,” he muttered. He punched a button on the panel, and a screen lit up on the wall and started playing a video feed of a crowd of people in a packed street.

A black sliver appeared directly below the video screen, widening as a large panel of the wall slid upward. Chase watched in wonder as a tabletop, set for two and covered with platters of food, extended out into the room. On either side of it, sections of floor rose silently to form two benches, flipping their tops to reveal a cushioned side.

Parker took a seat on one of the benches. “Don't you want any breakfast?”

Chase gaped at the feast spread out on the table. “Where did it come from?”

“Autokitchen. Sit down.”

Chase sank onto a bench, breathing in the rich smells from a tower of hot buttered bread rings, platters of syrup-drizzled fruits, and a bowl of small red jelly-like balls. “But who made it?”

Parker gave him that examining look again, and Chase couldn't tell whether his expression was incredulous or irritated. “It's from a food synthesizer. Are you going to eat?”

His stomach suddenly roaring, Chase grabbed a bread ring and crammed the whole thing in his mouth in two bites. Crispy and sweet, it dissolved into buttery richness in his mouth. He reached for another.

“Whoa there, animal, don't choke yourself.” Parker leaned over his plate and stared as Chase attacked the food like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He touched the video screen beside the table, and the volume increased. On the screen, a sharp-faced man gesticulated behind a podium, speaking in a strange, fluid language.

“What are you watching?” asked Chase through a mouthful of tart green berries.

“I like the news,” said Parker defensively. “Why, would you prefer cartoons?”

Chase rolled his eyes. The video changed, and a blond anchorwoman stood in front of an ornate building. “Leaders from several planets are already commending the new Lyolian president-elect for his strong stance on shutting down interplanetary trafficking networks,” she chirped. “Here in the capital it's a happy day, but in the wake of this surprising election, many are holding their breath as they await the response of the planet's Karsha Ven militants. This is Parri Dietz reporting live on Lyolia. Back to you, Boris.”

“What's Lyolia?” asked Chase.

Parker's head snapped around so fast Chase could practically hear the air crack. “What?”

“I—I just haven't heard of…”

Parker stared at him intensely for a moment. He pointed at the newsfeed. “What's that called?”

“Um, a video screen?”

“What rises in the morning and sets in the evening?”

“You mean the sun?”

“Is a fork an animal or a utensil?”

Chase scoffed. “A utensil. Why are you—”

Parker held up a hand to interrupt him. “How many planets are there in the Federation?”

“What Federation?”

Parker's eyes widened. “Fifteen. Is Trucon a colony planet or an origin planet?”

Chase shook his head.

“Colony. What's the capital of Earth?”

“Earth?”

“Good lords! Earth, your origin planet. You're Earthan, Chase—come on, you've gotta know that.”

Chase shook his head, the names and information whirling around inside it. How did Parker know that he was Earthan, whatever that was? What other options were there?

Parker stared at him. “Last night after you passed out, I was reading up on amnesia. If you know what a video screen is, what a fork is, that means your semantic memory—your memory of facts and information—is intact. You should be able to answer the most basic questions about the galaxy. How could you not know this stuff? How could you not even know that you're Earthan?”

Chase flushed and started to stammer something about memory loss. The gaping void in his brain was bad enough, but somehow it made things worse to know that the only clue he had so far was that he didn't know much about anything. “How do you know I didn't just forget that too?”

Parker narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “After you showed up here yesterday, Dr. Silvestri and I figured you probably escaped from one of the slave traffickers. They're always moving shipments of slaves around in the deserts here. But even a slave would know what Earth is, unless you're just really dumb. Did you grow up in a wormhole or something?” A smile stretched across Parker's face. Was he
enjoying
this?

“Obviously I don't have any idea where I grew up,” said Chase through clenched teeth.

Parker opened his mouth to say something else, but his eyes flickered past Chase, and abruptly the smile vanished. His expression darkened into a scowl.

Chase glanced over his shoulder. To his surprise, a teenage girl with long brown hair had walked into the living room. Her bright eyes locked on Chase, and she walked right up to his chair and extended a hand.

“Hello, Chase,” she said.

“Um, hi?” He turned around and shook her hand. Behind him, he heard Parker snort. Why hadn't Parker mentioned this girl?

“Welcome to our home. My name is Mina.” Her face was calm, almost expressionless, but her blue eyes rested on him with an unsettling intensity.

So Parker had lied about living alone. “Nice to meet you, Mina,” he mumbled.

“Where did you come from?”

Did she really not know about his amnesia, or was this another attempt to trick his brain into giving up the answer? “I don't know,” Chase said after a strained pause. “I can't remember.”

“Okay.” She stared for a few more uncomfortable seconds, analyzing him. What kind of weirdo was she? A normal teenager might try to make conversation, or at least blink.

Parker flicked at a piece of bread on the table, shooting a crumb across the room. “What do you want, Mina?”

“I'm going out to run some errands.” Her eyes never left Chase. “Don't leave the house.” She turned around and walked away as suddenly as she had arrived.

“Who was that?” Chase asked after she had left. “Is she your sister or something?”

Parker's eyes widened. “Are you—? You've got to be kidding me.” He got up from the table, shaking his head. “Honestly, I'm starting to think maybe you
were
raised in a wormhole.”

Chase stared at the video feed, grinding his teeth. Obviously there was a lot he didn't understand. Parker didn't need to make him feel so stupid. “When is Dr. Silvestri going to come back?”

“I don't know. Hey, get up.” Parker jabbed him in the shoulder. “Come with me. You want to play a piloting game? I've got a pretty good virtual deck downstairs.”

“I don't want to play any stupid games,” said Chase angrily. “I need to figure out who I am, did you forget that?”

Parker raised his hands, backing away. “Fine, freak. Whatever. Do what you want.”

Feeling guilty for his outburst, Chase added, “But thanks for breakfast. And for letting me stay here.”

“Like I had a choice,” Parker said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Chase watched the video feed, where people were dancing in a street somewhere. As far as he could tell, they looked the same as he did. Did that mean they were all Earthan? What was the opposite of an Earthan?

If he couldn't remember where he was from, the best thing to do would be to retrace his steps from yesterday. If he'd really come in from the desert, maybe the desert was where he should start looking for clues.

BOOK: Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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