The Loneliness of Distant Beings

Chapter Eleven

This is the night for phase one of Dad and Grandpa's campaign to get Ezra and me to like each other. I've agreed to it under duress but I've never known anything so doomed to fail.

Buzzer and it's him.

'Honey,' he sneers, sliding past me.

'Get out of my room!' I yell, horrified by just the sight of him there. It's only now I notice the crisp creases in his just-pressed grey overalls and the way his hair isn't artfully messed up and waxed to heck like usual but is combed back, wet-looking.

He notices me looking but just says, 'Get ready. This is our date,' and then stands looking bored while I get my stuff together. 'Chop-chop,' he says after less than ten seconds, just as a call comes through on his pod. 'Hey,' he answers in a voice I don't recognise, stepping out of the door and making it slide closed behind him.

I'm just about ready by this point so I go to the door and stand next to it, straining my ears and cursing its density. All I hear is his tone, the softness of it, how totally unfamiliar it is, and this is when I realise that I actually don't even slightly care who he talks to or how he does it or why, and I pull my hood up, release the door and catch him looking like someone doing something he shouldn't and saying, 'OK, I'll speak to you later,' and hanging it up.

'Who was that?' I ask, more to wind him up than out of genuine curiosity, but he doesn't answer, just takes hold of the back of my neck and steers me into the galley to Dad.

'Thanks for letting me borrow her, Mr H,' he simpers, as Dad pauses Football Manager to nod and look startled.

Out on the passageway he switches into walking three metres ahead of me and checking messages on his pod as if I'm not there at all. I follow along behind and check my own pod, find a video message there from Dom and, as you can imagine, I can't resist playing it (super quiet).

'Hey,' he says. 'Just . . . I don't know . . . you said I should call and I guess I just thought I might.' He's almost lost in the darkness of the Production bays. 'Anyway, since you're a music fan I find myself wondering if you want to come and see my band. Not because we're good or anything, because we're not. In fact we basically suck, but, you know, maybe you have really bad taste.' He laughs. 'Anyway I'll message you the details and it's up to you but, you know, it's always good to see a friendly face in the crowd when you're making an idiot of yourself. And by the way I hope that you're appreciating this whole echo thing I got happening.' And just before he hangs up he looks right into the pod's camera in a way that . . . I don't even know what it does, but for a second I wonder if I might die of just how cool he is. And then Ezra is dropping back.

'Give me your hand,' he barks.

'What? No way!'

'Just give me your stupid hand and keep quiet for once in your life.'

'You're not the king, Ezra – you do realise that?'

'As far as you're concerned I am the king, so you may as well get used to it.'

At which point all I can do is stop dead in my tracks and laugh at him. 'Man, you actually are nuts!'

He storms back towards me and raises his hand so that for a moment I'm sure he's going to hit me and in spite of myself I flinch, but all he does in the end is point. 'You, Seren Hemple –' he says my name like it's in quotes, '– are luckier than you can even imagine to get me – ME, EZRA LOMAX – as your life partner. And all you do is bitch and moan. And I am sick of it. I am so sick of it I can hardly even speak.'

But, you know, there really isn't anything I can do except laugh at that, which annoys him, but it's not like I care.

We are on our way to the plaza obviously, because that's basically the only place to go. The plaza is this big cavernous hole that's right in the middle of the ship where they put a bunch of bars and places that serve coffee and stuff and there are weird synthesised trees in tubs and tables and chairs all around. Basically, VCI was a Spanish company originally and so I think they based the whole plan of the ship on this kind of town square concept, as if the Ventura was this village and this is where everyone would come together and get all warm and fuzzy. The entrance to the drill hall is here at one end (where they have all the briefings and the church services and weddings) and there's a bunch of other stuff on this level too that you get to from the plaza, like the cinema and the offices for Cultural. And all the four different sections of the ship – North, East, South and West – are defined by their position in relation to the plaza, like the dingiest set of suburbs you could ever imagine.