Chapter 1

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are

But the thing is, we don't anymore. Wonder, that is. We haven't for a while because
science has
figured out all that there is to figure out. Mankind has come too far, too too far,
crossed too many
points-of-no-return and kept on barreling through till the last bits and pieces of
wonder were
shattered. People don't wonder anymore. People don't dream. People just know.
We know that there are 42, not 48, other civilizations in our galaxy; Douglas Adams
must be so
damn proud (and the Drake Equation was always more of a guestimate anyway, nowhere
near as
accurate as Science Fiction). Then again, reality has always been stranger than the
mind has the
capacity to imagine. Maybe that's why it stopped imagining. It got tired of being
outdone.
"Jimin! C'mon! You're gonna miss the game!"
"Shut the fuck your face, I'm coming!" Jimin takes the steps by bounds and leaps,
jumping up to
tap the wooden doorframe even as he zooms through it to crash onto the old, worn
couch in front
of a holographic projector. Jungkook is perched right next to it, chewing on his
nails. Jimin swats
at him.
"Stop that."
"You're not my mom."
Jimin quirks an eyebrow, fixing Jungkook with a look. "Really? You wanna go there?"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. Wait, wait, it's starting--I swear to every single
galaxy in the entire
universe that if Russia takes another Championship I'm gonna stuff an entire
shuttle up my ass."
Jimin lets out a bark of a laugh and elbow Jungkook in the side, "You sure you'd be
able to fit that
shuttle in? Your head's already taking up so much space in there."
Jungkook shoves Jimin's face through the hologram and it looks like the opening
shot goes right
through his forehead.
Zero-gravity football (soccer some people used to call it) is kind of outdated, but
still a crowd
favorite. Well, as much of a crowd as there is left. Most people have already left
Earth and they
can't get signals beyond Jupiter so there's literally no chance of the Higher
Classes catching this
game. Not that the Higher Classes still watch zero-grav football. They've probably
come up with
something classier and indefinitely more expensive by now.
"I used to want to be a football player," Jimin says, settling into the couch,
reaching across
Jungkook for a bag of fries.
"I thought you wanted to be a pilot." Jungkook doesn't even take his eyes off the
game, but his
fingers dig through the fry bag and he shoves a handful in his mouth. Jimin shrugs.
They both
hoot as Korea takes a shot.
"No you wanted to be a pilot," Jimin corrects. Jungkook pauses with another handful
of fries
halfway to his mouth, a tiny frown creasing his forehead.
"Oh, right, I did." Then he shoves the entire handful in his mouth and chews. Jimin
is licking his
fingers clean of the salt, smacking his lips.
"Goal!" Jungkook punches the air and Jimin crumples up the empty fry-bag and lops
it over the
hologram straight into the garbage disposal. It hisses as the bag disintegrates and
lets out a small
puff of oxygen mist.
In 22010, there isn't much that humans haven't achieved, not much that we have not
conquered or
destroyed. No last frontier of science because that was ages ago, literally. But
one thing hasn't
changed--things live, and things die. And well, if the Earth is a living body, then
humans were the
cancer that it couldn't find a cure for. And so, it's dying.
But not before the universe put up a pretty good fight. How do you fight cancer?
Well, radiation
of course.
When the first wave of gamma rays hit from Eta Carinae, people weren't ready,
though they
thought they were. Billions died, millions more were diagnosed with diseases that
all culminated
in fatalities. Plants withered, birds and animals littered the streets by the
hundred thousands, what
few scientists remained not so much as crossed off species from the list but ripped
out entire pages
and burned them. The world population was cut down by more than half, almost
overnight, and
the results were nothing short of devastating. In the years that followed, that
half was once again
halved by the aftershocks of the radiation, and then halved again by the fallout,
reducing the world
population to barely an eighth of what it used to be.
Everyone thought it was finally time for humans to go.
But cancer isn't that easily cured. And neither is humanity.
We might call it resilience, the world might call it pestilence. Either way, the
people who did
survive came up with plans, answers, ways, as we always have, and life carried on,
under clothes
made to deflect gamma rays. Mechanics and scientists even developed a way to turn
that radiation
into usable energy and civilization thrived again.
Up above the world so high.
And that was when we really started looking up towards the stars. That was when
people started
to realize that our time here really is coming to an end, and that if we don't get
out, the world will
die, and we would die right with it. Some people might call it a noble way to go
but most people
just wanted out, nobility go screw itself in the backseat.
So, the World Council came up with a plan, a desperate, crazy plan, but a plan
nonetheless--send
42 ships off into space, towards the known civilizations in our galaxy and hope
against hope and
against hope that some of them make it. Of course, there are safer civilizations,
the ones that
people have made contact with, weak as the radio signals were, strange as the
messages were,
long as it took to decode, but contact was made. And, given the significantly
lowered population
of the world, it wouldn't be a far shot from splitting what remained of the world
into 42 different
ships and sending them off. And that's exactly what happened.
Only, it�s more complicated than that. It's always more complicated than that. How
do you decide
who gets to go first? Who gets to go to the "safer" civilizations, and who gets
sent on a joyride
towards the edge of our galaxy without knowing if the ship will ever reach the
civilization we've
never made contact with?
Rewind 20 thousand years, give or take a century or so and a ship named the Titanic
sunk to the
bottom of the ocean.
And, while history doesn't repeat but it sure as hell does rhyme.
The rich and influential go first, go to the safest. The lesser fortunate go last.
So it's been for all of
humanity, and so it shall be till the end of the world's days. Literally. Oh the
beauties of social
hierarchy.
A ship goes out about every half year or so, because that's how long it takes to
recharge the power
plant with enough energy to launch a ship into space far enough for it to reach
wherever it needs
to go; the second to last ship left about six months ago.
"Three points! We're ahead by three points!" Jungkook is shaking Jimin by the
shoulders. They're
both jumping up and down on the sofa. It creaks and squeaks under their weight but
it holds.
"Five more minutes and we'll end first quarter with a three point lead!" Jimin
shouts back, and
sure enough, five minutes later, the pair of them are tumbling off the sofa,
laughing and shouting.
It's the first time in two whole centuries that anyone other than Russia's gotten
the World
Championship.
"There's a party going on at Jackson's tonight," Jimin says as the game breaks for
commercials.
They're playing old reruns of ads for outdated things--teleporters, hovercrafts,
etc.
"There's always a party at Jackson's." Jungkook is rummaging around the kitchen for
more snacks
and comes up empty. "We need to do some shopping."
Jimin snorts. "With what cash?"
Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Who needs that when you've got the five finger discount?"
Jimin heaves a sigh. Jungkook pauses in his last sweep of the kitchen and eyes
Jimin.
"Oh, c'mon, it's not like we haven't been doing this for years. Thought you would
have gotten
used to it by now."
Jimin makes a noncommittal noise and slumps back into the sofa, "Call me old-
fashioned but, I
dunno, stealing just doesn't sit right with me."
"Do we have any other choice?" Jungkook makes his way back over to the sofa and
leans his
arms on the back, peering down at Jimin. His eyes are alight with something a
little bit dangerous,
a little bit devilish.
"Suppose not..." Jimin glances at him and right then, Jungkook drops an apple on
his face.
"Ow! Shit--! That really--hey, where'd you get an apple from?" Jimin scrambles up,
rubbing at his
nose, the apple in his hand, hard and smooth and shiny.
"Guy down the street used to own an orchard--I've been taking care of a few things
in there at
night, you know the trees that are close enough to pull that gamma tarp over? And
you said you
missed fruits and stuff, so... yeah." He trails off at the end, scrunching his nose
and scuffing his
feet against the floor.
"How'd you learn how to garden?" Jimin asks, eyebrows in danger of disappearing
into his
hairline, even as he takes a large bite of the apple and almost groans out in
satisfaction. It's sweet,
and crunchy, and right now, it's just about the last good thing left on this whole
damn Earth,
except for Jungkook of course.
Jungkook waves a hand and jerks his head, motioning for Jimin to follow. They make
their way
through the long hallway of the abandoned house, down to the door leading to the
basement. For
the most part, they haven't been in there yet--it's only been a couple of weeks
since they've moved
in and stretching tarp over literally every inch of the roof is a tedious task, but
completely
necessary for ancient houses like these.
The basement is damp and dark. Jungkook clicks on his pocket fuse and the room
lights up with a
soft, blue glow.
"Whoa..." Jimin's eyes go wide.
"Right?" Jungkook says, grinning as he lifts the fuse higher to cast the light
about. The basement
is chalk full of books. Encased in Plexiglas and sealed tight into boxes of
transparent alloy. Books,
like the ones they've only seen in museums and in holographic projectors (back when
they still
snuck around into public schools for lessons). Hundreds upon hundreds of books,
their titles in
stacked letters, some of them recognizable, others in languages long lost to the
ravages of time and
the ruthless pace of change.
"This one here, is on gardening. I found it the other night when you woke me up
from snoring too
loudly," Jungkook says, bending down to push open the lid of a Plexiglas�s case,
pulling out a
tattered volume with a bright yellow and black striped cover--Gardening for
Dummies.
"Dummies?" Jimin reads, smirking, but Jungkook makes to jab him in the side and he
lowers his
eyes back to the book. The pages smell like history, proper history, and stories.
So, so many
stories.
"Right here's the chapter on apple trees, and then over here... there are these
fruits call 'cherries'
before The First Wave. Y'know."
"They look yummy."
"Sure do," Jungkook says as he flips to another page, the pair of them settling
down on the dustcovered
basement floor, a pocket fuse between the two of them, huddled over the pages of a
book
that holds the stories of people from thousands of years ago.
They miss the entire football game and Jackson's party but neither of them can
remember to care
anymore.
Like a diamond in the sky.
Nighttime is the only time it's really safe to go outside without a thick layer of
processed fabric
clothing on. Nighttime usually finds Jungkook and Jimin splayed out across the
roof, staring up at
the stars, and tonight, it is no different.
"Which one do you think we'll go to?" Jimin asks.
"That one," Jungkook says, pointing.
"Hm... that one doesn't look so great, what about that one?" Jimin points to
another one.
"What's wrong with the one I picked?" Jungkook lets his hand fall.
Jimin shrugs, "Nothing, I just like that one better." His hand falls too and their
palms find each
other, pressing, fingers lacing.
"What if I wanted to go to the one I picked?"
"Then I'd come with you."
"Even if you liked the other one better?"
"Of course."
Silence.
Jungkook gives Jimin's fingers a squeeze, turning round to face him.
"We can go to your star."
"I thought you liked the other one better," Jimin grins, turning his head to catch
Jungkook's eye.
"Nah, changed my mind."
Jimin squeezes back. They close their eyes and doze to the sound of the wind
through the air,
thicker than it was before, more solid as it slides against their cheeks and their
skin, pulling at their
hair with its long, thin fingers, tugging right on the edges of their dreams. They
fall asleep to the
sound of each other's breathing--the last song the world will ever sing.
Morning comes with the rare chirrup of bird-song, because humans aren't the only
creatures who
are resilient and Darwinism still stands, gamma radiation or not. Things learn and
die and adapt,
things grow and shift and become. Things seek out ever more ways to survive, to
live.
"Wake up, c'mon, the sun's gonna be up soon and we'll burn out here if we don't get
inside."
Jungkook is tugging on Jimin's arms. Jimin stirs with a huge yawn and blinks up at
Jungkook, a
soft smile on his face.
"Morning." His voice is thick and sticky.
"Morning," Jungkook says, blandly as he gives Jimin's arm another tug, eyeing the
horizon. It's
brightening by the second and they needed to get inside quick if neither of them
wanted second
degree burns. The atmosphere has deteriorated so much over the past twenty thousand
years that
the only reason oxygen is still plentiful enough is for the thin lattice of
nanofibers braided and set
over the entire world to keep oxygen atoms in, but they're not designed to keep the
sun's harmful
rays out. That's what the clothes and the tarps are for and staying in the sun too
long, even far as it
is now, could be deadly.
"Alright, alright, I'm up. I'm up." Jimin climbs to his feet, gathering their quilt
from beneath him,
almost stumbling as Jungkook pulls him to the edge of the roof, hopping down the
ladder towards
the ground, jumping the last two rungs and landing with a drop and a roll. Jimin
follows after, still
yawning, at a decidedly slower pace, and Jungkook is tapping his feet a mile a
minute, holding the
back door open for Jimin when he comes through.
"So chivalrous," Jimin says, grinning, voice still sleepy and soft.
"I try," Jungkook says, rolling his eyes.
Jimin sets the quilt on the sofa and curls up again, outside the sun is rising, the
windows darkening
over to keep the most harmful rays out. Jungkook shakes Jimin by the shoulders.
"Get uppp, I thought we were gonna go read today."
Jimin mumbles something and swats at Jungkook's hand, who sighs and leans closer.
"One more time in a language I understand?"
"You can... read... I'm gonna... sleep."
"Ugh," Jungkook lets out an exasperated groan and pushes away from the sofa. Jimin
barely
registers the thumpthumpthump of his footsteps down the stairs to the basement, or
the decidedly
slower thumps as he comes back up. But he does feel the weight the dip of the sofa
under a
decidedly heavier weight than he knows Jungkook is. Jimin peers down at Jungkook
through one
half-opened eyelid. Jungkook has a stack of books on his lap, the Gardening for
Dummies
propped up against the top, nose buried in it.
Jimin closes his eyes, "What's it say?"
"I thought you wanted to sleep." Jungkook's voice is flat, but the hitch tells
Jimin that he's
gloating. He loves gloating.
"I do."
"Then why do you wanna know what it says?"
"Curious."
"How're you gonna read it if you're sleeping?"
"Read it out loud."
"What?"
Jimin opens one eye again, a grin slipping over his lips, "Read it out loud. Then
I'll know what it
says and not have to read it myself. And I like your voice--you have a nice voice.
I hear you
singing in the public showers all the time."
Jimin can't really tell if it's the morning light hitting Jungkook's face at just
the right angle, or if
he's just blushing too hard, but the effect is nice. Jungkook's cheeks are a soft
shade of morning
pink, dipping in gold as he takes a deep breath and lowers his eyes to the page.
Jimin had never known so many things about cherry blossoms but he thinks that
pretty as they
may be, they'll never be quite as pretty as Jungkook's blush that morning.
"I've decided that cherry blossoms are my favorite flower," Jungkook says that
night, their
shoulders pressed, looking up at the night sky.
"You haven't even seen a real one before."
"Yeah, I know, but I saw them in that book and they're really pretty. And maybe
when we get to
this new planet and make friends with the people there, we can convince them to
plant some."
"Jungkook, you know that they're extinct right? Where are you gonna get the seeds?"
Jungkook turns his head to give Jimin a look, "You wanna tell me that we've been
able to
genetically engineer human beings, control the entire genome down to the last
letter, and we won't
be able to reproduce a cherry tree seed to plant on whatever planet we're gonna
land on?"
Jimin huffs. "Alright, alright. Point taken," and then he sighs, wistful and soft,
"think it'll be nice
there? Wherever we're going?"
"Better be--I'm trying to start the first ever zero-grav team there."
"All you need is a ball and a zero-grav field. That can literally be done anywhere
in space cause
no gravity in space, remember?"
"Yeah, but how awesome would it be to have like, aliens versus humans games?"
Jungkook is
grinning too wide.
"You're so weird--one second you're talking about planting cherry trees, the next
you're talking
about orchestrating zero-grav football games between two species." Jimin shakes his
head and lets
out a laugh.
"What can I say? I'm a man of many interests."
Jimin scoffs, but it turns into another laugh and he's nodding, "Of course you
are--hey," he lifts his
head up from the quilt and reaches around him, pulling out a book, a thin book, and
flipping open
the cover, digging a pocket fuse out to shine it on the pages.
"Which one's that?" Jungkook asks, turning onto his stomach, chin resting against
Jimin's
shoulder.
"The Little Prince," Jimin says, pointing to a picture of a tiny blond-haired boy
standing on a
planet with flowers and tiny mountains.
"Is it good?" Jungkook asks as Jimin flips to the first page. He shrugs.
"Dunno yet."
By the time they finish, the both of them feel like their hearts are going to pump
right out of their
mouths and they go to sleep promising each other to always love sunrises more than
sunsets. And
Jimin decides that this is his favorite book of all time.
Notices fly through every single holographic device in the entire world--the last
ship is leaving in
two days. Bring only what you need and nothing else. Supplies will be provided on
the ship and
partitioned after the headcount has been completed. Please check to make sure you
are on the
registered name list to confirm your space upon the spacecraft.
"We've confirmed, right?" Jimin asks, peering over the top of The Adventures of
Sherlock
Holmes. Jungkook is sitting at the other end of the sofa, speeding through Harry
Potter and the
Deathly Hallows.
"Hm? Oh--yeah we have. We got the space assignments too, the same bunk bed. But I
used our
birth certificate names," Jungkook says with a sheepish grin, "so we'll have to
check in at different
lines but we'll meet up back inside."
"Good," Jimin says, eyes lowering back onto the page.
Two days pass in a flurry of words, faster than the flip of a page.
The check in times are blocked off, mainly to keep the teleportation stations from
flooding, and
too many people trying to access the same end point might cause glitches in the
system (horrible
accidents in the past). Jungkook and Jimin are slotted for the last batch of people
leaving.
"Orphans, duh," Jungkook says when Jimin asks why they're always last in line for
everything.
"Right, right," Jimin says, slumping down next to him, watching the clock on the
wall tick down
mankind's last couple of hours on Earth. It's weirdly symbolic, that the last
people on Earth would
be those at the bottom of the social class, misfits and orphans.
When the time finally comes, they decide to leave the books. They're heavy and not
worth the
weight when teleporting--might screw up the algorithm if their masses are too off
and they can't
use an entire teleportation ticket for just books, they only have two.
"I'll meet you inside, okay?" Jungkook says, waving as he bounds off towards the
line for the J's
"Yeah!" Jimin heads in the other direction for the P's. The lines are long, but
they move at a
decent pace. Still, it's been an hour and Jimin feels like they haven't moved much
at all. Something
crinkles beneath his foot as he takes another step and he looks down. It's a
teleportation ticket. He
bends down to pick it up, smoothing the thin material over his palm. An idea clicks
in his head
and he grins, turning to the old man behind him.
"Could you please save this spot for me? I forgot something back home and I gotta
run to get it."
The old man nods and smiles a toothless smile. Jimin bows low, then shoots off
towards the
nearest teleportation stand.
Jungkook finally makes it through the sea of people inside, pushing passed them all
till he reaches
their bunk room. It's tiny, small as a closet, with just two beds and a small light
attached to the
head of each bed along with the bare necessities needed for daily life. There are
two sets of
immaculately folded clothes laid out on the sheets. Neither of them have been
touched. Jungkook
bounces on his feet, looking up and down the curved hallway before he decides to
change now
and then go find Jimin.
The mess hall is just that, a mess and Jungkook grabs two apples, shoving one in
his pocket,
popping the other one in his mouth before moving along the various tables and
rotating trays,
filling his arms with more food than he's had in... ever. He lays them all out on a
table, then scans
the room--no Jimin to be found. His stomach tightens, but he brushes it off. There
are literally tens
of thousands of people on this ship, of course he's not going to find Jimin right
off the bat. It'd be
nice though.
He'll be there when we go to sleep, he loves sleep too much to skip out on that,
Jungkook things
as he polishes off his apple and proceeds to stuff his face till he can't fill his
stomach anymore. The
spaceship rumbles to a start and people cheer as it finally lifts off. Jungkook
takes up as much food
as he can in his arms and goes back to his bunk, dumping all the food on the lower
bed before
climbing up the stepladder to peer into Jimin's bed.
The clothes are still folded, the linens still pristine and wrinkle free.
Jungkook frowns. Why hasn't Jimin changed yet? He can't enjoy being in those
tattered old
clothes they were wearing. Something very startling and increasingly unpleasant
blooms in the
back of Jungkook's mind but it can't be. He takes a deep breath and makes for the
central
commands.
The cockpit is barred off by a low set of metallic strings so that the people
sitting in the giant
lounge can see all the happenings inside, even talk to the crew if they fancied,
keep an eye on the
ETA and check their progress through the galaxy. The ship has cleared the Earth's
atmosphere
and is slowly making its way towards Mars. When they clear the last of Jupiter's
moons, and only
then can they go into light-speed travel. Any time before that and the power of the
ship might
affect gravitational forces of the first four planets and the point is to leave a
much intact as
possible.
"Hey, excuse me? Uhm, did everyone make it onto this ship?" Jungkook pulls himself
up onto the
raised platform of the cockpit and is greeted by a gentle-faced man with a stern
smile.
"We haven't yet been able to recount the data, but that shouldn't be more than a
couple minutes
more. Is there someone you're looking for?"
"Yeah, Jimin, Park Jimin," Jungkook says, raising his fingers to his lips as if to
chew on his nails
but he catches himself last second and lowers his hand back down.
"Quite a common name," the man says, pulling up a list of names and scrolling
through them.
Jungkook watches, rocking on the balls of his feet.
"Do you know how old he is?"
"Uhm.... no? We're orphans... don't really keep track of that stuff."
"Ah, I'm very sorry to hear that," the man's voice softens along with his eyes as
he lowers them
back onto the scrolling list. Little green checks connected to each name and
Jungkook hopes
against hope that one of them is Jimin. His Jimin.
"Where is he from?"
"Busan. It's a tiny little district--we're both from there--"
"Ah yes," the man says, nodding as the scrolling slows and he pauses over one tiny
little red x
marked next to a Park Jimin, Busan. He frowns, "It seems that he might have missed
check in but
I'm sure after the second round of confirmations, we'll find him. No one's missed a
ship since the
third one took off."
Jungkook takes a deep breath through his nose. His heart is pounding somewhere in
his temples
and his fingers feel cold, his neck too hot, the space around him doesn't have
enough oxygen and
he feels his vision slip in and out of focus.
"Just another minute or so before the second round of confirmations come in," the
man says,
tapping the refresh button at the top right corner of his list.
Jungkook closes his eyes and tries to keep still, tries to keep himself from
tipping right over and
falling off the edge of the raise platform. This cannot be happening.
"Ah..." the man's voice does not bode well.
"What?" Jungkook bites, eyes snapping open. There's still a little red x next to
Jimin's name.
"It... it seems that he didn't make it onto the ship. And the final headcount did
come up to one
person short."
"What do you mean he didn't make it onto the ship?" Jungkook's fingers curl into
fists, his voice
low and shaky as his mind buzzes and blanks out to a field of white, noise and heat
colliding and
melting till he can't think for the rush of blood behind his ears.
"He... he's not on the ship. I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" Jungkook blinks and forces himself to breathe again,
his mind
untangling bits of logic, stringing it around his throat, pulling tight, "we just
have to turn the ship
around and go get him."
"I'm... I'm very sorry, but we can't do that."
"Why not?" His teeth are gritted so tight the words barely make it out coherent.
"We can't just turn back around and land the ship again--"
"Why the fuck not?" Jungkook takes a step forward and immediately, another man
appears by his
side, tall and broad-shouldered, placing a firm hand on Jungkook's arm.
"Please, sir, it would be wise for you to calm down."
"You left my friend behind! My friend is back there! On Earth, the last person on
Earth and you
left him there!" Jungkook's throat aches with the words he's shouting but he almost
doesn't hear
them over the sound of his fear, his agitation, disbelief, every single emotion
he'd never thought
he'd be able to feel surging up through his arteries and bones, sizzling up and
down his spine,
curling around his ribcage, constricting his lungs, his throat, his heart, his
heart, his heart.
There are tears running down his face. He doesn't realize till he tastes them on
his lips.
"We have to go back! My friend--my best friend is back there! We have to go back!"
He's trying
to claw his way to the pilot's seat, as if he could somehow turn the ship around
himself, but the
second man has him in a vice-grip, holding him with an arm around his waist.
"We can't," the first man says, voice wavering but final in its tone, "because it
will take another
six months for the launch pad to power up again, and... and" his voice falters as
he swallows--
Jungkook lets out a ragged, broken sob--"and we powered down the atmospheric
lattice
generators when we left. We assumed... we assumed that it would no longer be
necessary, given
the... circumstances. So the oxygen supply will the depleted by morning."
"Y-you... you turned off the..." Jungkook's cry gets cut off in his throat.
"I'm very sorry... there's nothing we can do."
"Fuck that--fuck that--we're going back! I don't care if it takes another six
months--we can all stay
in this damn ship if we have to--" he's shaking his head as if it could rid him of
the truths spilling
over his cheeks onto the ground, shaking his head as if it would help him clear
away the myriad of
memories of Jimin. Jimin and his laugh like that space between closing your eyes
and falling
asleep. Jimin with his hands that are so small but strong enough to knock the air
out of Jungkook's
chest that one time they tried to teach each other boxing from a book. Jimin with
his smile like
sunrise and eyes like stars. Like diamonds in the sky.
"He's just one person," the first man says, and he sounds like he's trying to
convince himself more
than anyone else, "we can't endanger the lives of tens of thousands of people for
just one per--"
"But he's my one person--he's my only person..." Jungkook's body goes slack and the
arm around
his waist loosens. A crowd has gathered around the cockpit, watching the entire
scene unfold like
some gross spectacle in a circus show.
"He's the only family I have... that I've ever had," he barely hears his own words
over the sound
of his breathing, can barely taste them over the sadness settling on his tongue,
the aftertaste of a
bad, bad nightmare that refuses to go away.
"Yer... not talkin' bout a little boy, bout yer age... shorter, with dem cheeks,
are ya?" An old man's
stepped out of the crowd. People are murmuring and muttering, stepping back to make
room.
Jungkook's head snaps up and he almost falls over the edge of the platform. "Yes!
That's him!
Have you seen him? Is he here? Where is he? Is he--"
"Said he had t'go get summat he fergot at home... sounded real important n' told me
t'look after his
place in line fer him. Ne'er did see him come back." The old man shifts his hat on
his head andheaves a deep sigh.
"And you just let him go?" Jungkook makes to launch himself forward but the second
man's
strong arm finds its way around his middle again and it knocks the wind right out
of him.
"We can try to make radio contact," the first man's voice says from behind
Jungkook. It is soft,
imploring, almost desperate. Try as they might, hearts are still made of soft
things, tissue and blood
and muscle. Things that wound easy. Things that tend to scar instead of heal.
"Would that be
okay?"
Jungkook is gasping for breath that isn't there but he nods. He nods and nods and
nods.
After a flurry of whispers in a language Jungkook swears he doesn't know, and a
mess of beeps
and click and soft static, the first man speaks into a small microphone on a long
cord.
"Hello? Is anyone there? Does anyone hear me?"
And then, like a piercing shard of clarity, painful enough to clear the mind, comes
Jimin's voice.
"H-hello? Is someone there? Hello?"
"Jimin! Jimin, oh fuck Jimin, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" Jungkook grabs at
the
microphone as the man hands it to him and clutches it to his mouth like it could
not only save him,
but everyone else on this ship.
"We won't be able to get you on a private line because the signal is too weak," the
man whispers,
close to Jungkook's ear, "and once we clear Jupiter's moons, we'll lose radio
distance... but you
have a little while."
Jungkook nods without really hearing the words, too intent on the breaths coming
from the large
speakers above him. He could almost hear Jimin's heartbeat, feel it beneath his
cheek as he presses
his face against the cool of the wall, trying to hold down his hiccups.
"Jungkook? Oh shit--is that you?"
"Y-yeah, it's me. What the hell did you go back to grab? You know you missed the
ship, right?"
"Yeah... figured that one out myself. I... I picked up a teleportation ticket on
the ground and
figured that... well, you said you wanted to plant cherry trees when we got to this
new planet
right? So... I came back to grab your gardening book." He sounds sheepish; Jungkook
can almost
see the embarrassed little smile on his face as he scratches the back of his neck.
"You went back for a book?" Jungkook lets out a strangled laugh and lets his head
thump back
against the wall, back pressed to it, knees drawn into his chest.
"I wanted to surprise you."
Jungkook feels tears prickling at the edges of his eyes again as he digs a small,
thin book from the
large pocket in his new pants. The Little Prince. "Me too."
The silence fills the room; no one is talking, all of them looking at the boy
curled up against thewall, cradling the speaker to his cheek, a book resting in his
lap, an entire ocean caught in his
eyelashes.
"We're coming back for you," Jungkook says, wiping at his tears. The first man
snaps around and
is about to say something when Jungkook swipes his hand across his own neck a
couple of times-
don't. The man falters and keeps quiet.
"You are?"
"Hell yeah we are. I'll pilot this damn ship myself if I have to."
"You've always wanted to be a pilot."
"I did," Jungkook says, a small laugh pressing passed his lips. Jimin's always
remembered, even
when Jungkook didn't, "and now I am--I guess dreams really do come true."
This time, Jimin laughs. And to Jungkook, it sounds like damnation. It sounds like
salvation.
"It'll take a while though, we're pretty far out, so... you should probably get
some sleep or
something. You love sleep."
"Yeah..."
"Jimin?"
"Yeah?"
"We'll... we'll be there by morning. Captain promised." Jungkook bites down hard on
his tongue.
The Captain's got a pair of in-ears in but he glances over with a sad little smile
before his eyes
refocus on the twenty or so screens in front of him. A momentary slip-up and
everyone on this
ship is a goner. Jungkook thinks that it might not be so bad right now.
"He did?"
"Yep, he did, so you should really get some rest. You gotta wake up at the asscrack
of dawn and
you're shit at waking up without me."
Jimin laughs again and Jungkook swallows, letting his eyes fall shut. "And you
better hold onto
that book. We're gonna need it when we land in on the new planet."
"I won't lose it, I promise."
"Good."
Another silence. Jungkook soaks in the sound of Jimin's breaths and wonders if he
could give up
his own for Jimin's. If he just held his breath long enough, he could somehow send
his lost-breath
through the speaker to Jimin, to keep him alive for�
"What star are you going to?" Jimin asks, breaking the silence. His voice is fuzzy
with static. The
man points at a screen with a map of the solar system. The ship is closing in on
the first of Jupiter's
moons.
"Your star. We're going to your star," Jungkook says, letting his head drop between
his knees to
steady his breathing, "The one you picked out that night we were on the roof."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it'll be a long way there so you should--"
"Really rest up, I know, I know," Jimin's voice is indulgent and it seeps into
Jungkook's skin,
sticking like the apple juice that slicks down your fingers when you take too big
of a bite.
"Its sunset, you know," Jimin says after another brief break. The static is getting
worse, halfsyllables
breaking off. Jungkook glances at the screen--halfway to the last of Jupiter's
moons.
"Is it pretty?" he asks, running a finger over the cover of The Little Prince,
tracing the title.
"Too pretty."
"Sunrise is still prettier," Jungkook says, but he hears the choke in his own voice
and has to
swallow again.
"It's getting dark... and cold," Jimin says, and for the first time, Jungkook picks
out the waver in
Jimin's voice, and it isn't the static.
"You should sleep, close your eyes and sleep. You're at home, right?"
"Y-yeah... the sofa's really big when you're not squishing me off it."
Jungkook chuckles and curls his free hand into a fist so tight his knuckles go
white, "Well you get
it all to yourself tonight."
"Jungkook?"
"I'm here."
"I'm... I'm scared."
"Don't be," Jungkook fights and fights and fights to keep his voice steady. Three
more moons.
"I'm right here, okay? Right here. Uhm..." he casts about for something else to
say, eyes settling
on the large window out to the universe beyond. "Close your eyes and try to sleep.
I'll sing you a
song, okay? You said you always wanted to hear me sing."
Jimin's breath comes in a small hiccup, "Yeah... I guess dreams really do come
true."
"Lie down and close your eyes, okay?" Two more moons. The crowd shifts. The old man
at the
front takes off his hat and presses it to his chest, eyes downcast.
"Okay."
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star--" Jungkook lets out a tiny sob. They're passing the
last moon. Jimin's
voice echoes out of the static-ridden speakers--
"How I wonder what you are--"
epilogue: wander
Chapter Summary
�If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at
night. All the
stars are a-bloom with flowers...�
Chapter Notes
meep.
i had to get it out.
so. there's that.
and really, if you haven't read the little prince, it probably wont hurt as much
so im not sure what you wanna do with that info LMFAO
*a/n: gliese 876 is a red dwarf around which there is a super-earth and i will just
leave
that at that :)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
There's a planet out there with a boy and a book of flowers.
"But you said that was a really long time ago."
Jungkook glances down at the Glietian boy and reaches out a hand to ruffle his
hair. It is thick and
dark and feels like tendrils of a long ago night, when stars still used to paint
the skies.
"It is," Jungkook replies, and though it has been too many Earth years, he still
can't quite shake his
accent. His words are rounder, softer, slurred in a way that Glietian isn't.
"Then how is he still a boy? Shouldn't be a--a..." the Glietian boy frowns,
features startlingly
similar to a human's. Jungkook wonders if either of his parents were human but
that's still rare, and
genetic testing is at a standstill.
"Grown-up?" Jungkook supplies with a little laugh, leaning back in his chair, his
head hitting the
trunk of one of his beloved cherry trees. He points up at the greenhouse ceiling, a
thin sheet of
shifting plasma keeping the oxygen in, the nitrogen out, projecting the universe
across this
particular expanse of sky.
"Yeah, one of those things."
"Because I don't know if he's chosen to grow up yet," Jungkook says, "I sure
haven't. I'm still a
boy."
The boy frowns, "What do you mean?"
Jungkook presses a few buttons on his chair and it spins into life, wheeling over
to the edge of the
huge greenhouse, where an entire wall is covered in books behind carefully
monitored cases as toprevent decay. He reaches in and tugs one out, a particular
book, a thin book, with the picture of a
little boy and a flower on the cover.
"You've read that book to us," the Glietian boy trills, clapping and grinning.
"It's my favorite, well no--my favorite book is with that boy on Earth."
"What's his name?"
Jungkook pauses, Jimin's name on his tongue like a prayer, a pearl, a perpetual
promise of maybe,
"I forget--like I said, it was a really long time ago. But I like to think of him
as the keeper of
memories."
"Keeper of memories," the Glietian boy echoes, voice thrumming soft and round,
trying to imitate
Jungkook's accent. Jungkook flips open The Little Prince and points at a passage
about seeing and
hearts and flowers and he reads it out loud, translating as he goes. The boy stays
quiet till the end
and quirks his head.
"So are all these flowers for him? So he won't have to wonder if a sheep has eaten
his flower?
There are too many flowers for any sheep to eat here!" and as if to illustrate, the
boy waves his
hands towards the massive expanse of the greenhouse, acres and acres of land, acres
and acres of
cherry blossoms.
Jungkook laughs, "Smart--yes. These are for him. So he can look up at the sky and
see the stars abloom
with flowers."
"Must be lonely, all by himself..." the Glietian boy says, wrinkling his nose as a
petal falls on it.
He goes briefly cross-eyed, staring at the tiny pink thing before he shakes his
head and it flutters to
the ground. Jungkook heaves a sigh and nods and tries not to think (as he has done
so many
nights, so many days, so many weeks and months and years) about how small Jimin
must have
looked curled up on that couch, wonder if Jimin sang himself to sleep that night,
with his eyes
squeezed shut, pretending that it's Jungkook's voice and if Jungkook had to name
one regret in his
whole entire life (sans the obvious one of letting Jimin--if he had only held on--
if he had--if--) he
would say that it was not singing more when he had the chance. Not singing for
Jimin when he
had asked, not singing him awake and singing him asleep and singing him through the
paces and
prints of every single day they had together as boys. Still as boys now.
"He has my favorite book to keep him company, and if he can see it, this whole
garden in the
sky," Jungkook says, and smiles to himself. Because he has to hold onto something
to keep
himself sane, funny that it's the very thing driving him to what the people of old
would have called
insanity--believing, deluding himself into--no, believing that maybe, there's a
chance that Jimin is
still alive, and looking up and wondering if Jungkook is there too.
"Well if these are his flowers, then where are yours?" the Glietian boy asks.
Jungkook presses his fingers over the book in his hands, tracing the tattered
outline and tries to
imagine sunrise. There are two suns here, and too many moons to count, so no
sunrise or sunset,
as the rotation of suns and moons and so many stars it's nearly impossible to chart
them. He tries to
imagine a sunrise as beautiful as those on Earth and can't, and then he wonders if
the sunrises
themselves were beautiful, or if they were made so by the way Jimin's face would
light up when
they happened; he tries to remember a sunrise without Jimin by his side and can't.
There are none
to be remembered.
"He's my flower," Jungkook says, "just the one." "Oh," the boy says, and then
recedes into silence. And then, "Then how do you know that he's
still there? That the 'sheep hasn't eaten the flower', that's what the book says,
right?"
Jungkook nods and places the book back in its case, lock clicking into place with a
small hiss.
He looks back up at the makeshift sky, projected across the greenhouse ceiling and
tries to
imagine the universe beyond, the direction that Earth might be in, and he sighs,
deep and heavy,
lacing his fingers over his lap.
The ground below is covered in fallen flowers.
"That's why I'm still a boy... because I wonder if my flower is still there. And
like the book says,
that's a kind of pain, a kind of importance that no grown up will ever understand.