After discovering clues from her astray father, the first hybrid offspring joins forces with her ragtag friends, embarking on a mission to regain the planet Safforia from the dystopian regime.
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Year E3029
Ocea
"How do you know Dr. Coachman is even important?" Becca asked, sitting on the cot at the back of the ship.
"It's not him but the content around his name," I said, flipping the notebook to face her and pointing at the words on the page.
"Men Of Suits, chips, and Dr. Coachman." I pulled the book away, tucking it under my armpit. "Why would my dad write those two key things on a list and the third not mean a thing?" Pacing back and forth, I glanced at Becca.
She shrugged her shoulders. "You have a point."
I bent over, glancing out the small round window. The night sky radiated a bright blue from the moons. The silhouette of the plants swayed in the wind while glowing insects buzzed around to find food. Wyatt and Thomas left to retrieve the door a few hours ago.
"They should be back by now," Becca said while biting on her fingernails.
I glanced over at her, tossing the book on the bed. "You are right." Walking to the door, I jumped the steps onto the dirt. "Let's get a fire started, and if they are not back by then—" I looked at her, pointing at my chest. "I will go after them."
Becca tilted her head, hanging halfway out the door. She glanced to the side, clenching her jaw, then stepped back, sitting on the floor inside the ship.
"So, Becca, what is the worst thing you have ever done?" I collected stones around the area, lining them in a circle.
"This," she replied, scooting on her ass to dangle her legs out the door.
I paused, rubbing my hands together to get the dirt off them. "No, before now."
She scrunched her eyebrows together while her eyes rolled back and forth. As she thought of an answer, I tracked near the ship, collecting sticks and small logs. I curled the fire starter material in my shirt, then bent over, gripping a red bark.
Lifting the bark slowly, a family of gal mites scattered. Their little round bodies dug in the dirt while their red wings with black spots fluttered to loosen the ground faster for their escape. The humans brought gal mites when they arrived from the Nus.
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"Those are ladybugs, not what your mother called them," my dad's voice echoed around my head.
"Gal mites are perfectly acceptable." Mom smiled, but her expression quickly changed to worry as other memories faded over another.
"Ocea." A tear escaped one eye as she dragged her sleeve over her cheek, wiping it away.
Pain radiated in my arm. Wyatt crawled quickly out from under the table and lifted it, knocking it over.
I gripped my arm tight below the glass piece sticking out of my arm, watching blood cover my fingers. I winced in pain as Stopper pulled my mom away.
