Chapter 4: Space

My shift can’t end fast enough. The moment we’re finished with the office, I head directly to the meeting spot. I don’t even bother to change out of my work uniform—this is too important. I know Trevor and the others probably aren’t there anymore, but I have to try. I have to try something to find Sanjeet. I feel like I’ve been on this ship, at this job, for too long. Every moment I spend cleaning is a minute Sanjeet may be in trouble, may be in danger. The thought gives me more energy as I make my way to the meeting point. I want to run, but I know it will only raise questions I don’t want to answer.

I’m only a few corridors away when I see something that makes me stop. Or, more accurately, someone who makes me stop. Kayla, stumbling out of one of the ballrooms, holds a champagne flute in one hand and a pair of strappy, expensive heels in the other. They match the tight, golden dress she’s wearing, every curve of her body noticeable.

“Kayla?” I say, confused. She looks up, her smokey eyes peering through her thick lashes, and she smiles.

“Maya,” she says, an obvious slur to her voice, “it’s so good to see you.” She giggles then downs the rest of the champagne before putting the flute on the ground. She freezes in her bent position, glancing between the flute and my uniform, then bursts into giggles as she lets go of the glass.

“Why aren’t you with Trevor?” I ask, already fed up with her bullshit.

“Oh that,” she says, smacking her lips together, “we didn’t go. We had this party to go to instead.” She lolls her head behind her to indicate the ballroom.

“So he went by himself?” I ask, panic rising in my throat. She just shrugs. Kayla getting caught with a security badge is one thing, but Trevor getting caught with it is a completely different problem. Kayla would likely just get a slap on the wrist. But with Trevor, who knows what they’d do. I swear then turn around and begin running to the meeting spot. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I know it can’t be good.

I burst through the “employees only” door at the end of the next hallway, and I make my way to the stairs. I open the door and begin descending the steps when I stop in my tracks. A door below me has slammed open, and I hear voices.

“Stop struggling,” one man says over the sound of feet kicking out against the metal stairwell.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” another voice says. I recognize it as Booker.

“Let go of me,” someone shouts, and I realize it’s Trevor.

The blood drains from my face, and I have to grab the railing to steady myself. Security must have found him. The heavy sound of a fist slamming into a stomach draws me back to reality.

“I saw what you’re doing! I saw th—” Trevor begins to say, but he’s cut off by another punch to the gut. There’s less of a struggle now as the two men drag him up the stairs. They stop ascending, and I peak over the railing to see them open a door and drag Trevor through it. He’s strung between the two men, his legs trailing loosely on the ground.

Once the door shuts, I quietly move down the stairs. I wait a few seconds then slowly open the door, hoping they aren’t waiting for me on the other side. I slip through and quickly shut the door behind me, making sure not to make a noise.

I haven’t been to this level before. It looks like the loading dock, somewhere I would never need to be. It’s dark here, only a few strings of light above illuminating the space. Lucky for me, dozens of crates and palettes are scattered across the floor, and I hide behind them as I move toward the sound of the two men dragging Trevor.

“What’s the plan?” the first man asks Booker. I can see them now, their backs turned to me. They’re standing in front of a large metal door with a glass window in it.

“Open it,” Booker says, nodding to the panel to the left of the door. The man hesitates, but only for a moment, before unwrapping Trevor’s limp arm from around his neck and scanning his badge over the pad. The red light clicks to green and, with a hiss of air, the heavy door rolls open. The noise stirs Trevor.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, his voice slurred. It sounds like he’s trying to speak with a wad of tissue in his mouth, and I realize his face must be swollen.

Booker doesn’t respond, just drags Trevor forward before pushing him into the loading area. He stumbles to the ground, and Booker steps back out.

Trevor rises from the ground and attempts to lunge past the door, but the other man scans his card again, and the door slides shut. Trevor slams into the now-shut door, pounding on the glass. I can see his face. His right eye is beginning to swell shut, and his cheek is purple and covered in dried blood.

“Let me go!” Trevor shouts, his voice muffled.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Booker says. He’s calm, as if telling a child they can’t have another slice of cake. His hands are behind his back, and I see him twist them together like he’s enjoying this.

“I saw what you did,” Trevor shouts, now more frantic. “I saw what you did to them.”

“Exactly,” Booker says, more to himself than to Trevor. Then, he nods at the man, who gives an unsure look before pressing a button on the panel.

“You won’t get aw—” Trevor begins, but the door behind him bursts open, and suddenly Trevor is gone. Simply there one moment, then gone the next. The empty expanse of space gapes just beyond the glass.

I cover my mouth and swallow down the bile that threatens to surface. It stings my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

They killed Trevor. They didn’t just fire him or send him home. They didn’t put him in the brig. They killed him. All because he stole the security badge. All because of whatever he’d seen in the sublevel.

I try not to sob as Booker and the other man walk away. Their footsteps echo down the bay, then the door to the stairwell opens and shuts. I stay, crouched behind the crate, for I don’t know how long. Part of me is stunned by what I just saw, but another part is terrified. Terrified for having witnessed it and terrified for knowing that I may end up just like Trevor.

All he wanted to do was find Elizabeth, but instead, whatever he found got him killed. And I know, deep down, that my search for Sanjeet may result in the same fate.

But I also know, deep down, that it’s worth it. I know what I’m risking now, but it doesn’t change the goal: find Sanjeet, or die trying.

* * *

I’m not sure how long I was down in the loading dock, but by the time I re-emerge at the guests’ level, I can tell it's late. The hallway lights have dimmed to a subtle glow, and I only pass a handful of guests, most too drunk to notice how distraught I am.

My hands are shaking, and as I walk I try to come up with a plan. It’s only a matter of time before someone sees security footage of me at the loading dock and realizes I witnessed Trevor get murdered. And by then, it will be too late for me to get to the bottom of what’s going on.

What had Trevor seen? He’d clearly seen people down there—he’d said so himself. And if there are people trapped in the sublevel, then maybe Sanjeet is down there. But why are they being hidden away?

I need to find a way into the sublevel, and I need to find it as soon as possible. I know I’m working against the clock now, just waiting until security realizes what I’ve seen. And then there’s nothing stopping them from doing to me what they did to Trevor. A quick beating, a trip to the loading dock, and an open door that erases me from existence, no one any wiser to what’s going on.

When I get to my room, I quietly open the door and see one roommate, Jeanne, sitting in her bed, her red hair spilling loose around her shoulders. She’s reading a book and glances up when I walk in. I smile at her and head toward my bed. I desperately need to sleep, but I know I won’t. My mind won’t stop racing until I find a solution.

I’m climbing up the small ladder when Jeanne suddenly speaks.

“Oh,” she says, making me jump, “I almost forgot.” I hear her get up and ruffle through the backpack near her bedside. “Someone named Trevor came by a few hours ago and left this for you.” I freeze mid-step and slowly turn my head.

She holds a sealed envelope out to me, and I step down the ladder and walk the small distance between us. I grab it from her hands and say thank you before we both return to our beds. My hands tremble as I unseal the envelope and pull out a folded piece of paper.

The message inside is short, and I read it slowly to make sure I don’t miss anything.

Meera, if you’re reading this, you probably know that Kayla and her friends decided not to come with me. I thought about waiting for you, but I couldn’t. I need to find Elizabeth as soon as possible, so I’m going by myself, but I wanted to let someone know in case something happens to me. If I’m not back tonight, it means they caught me and locked me up until they can send me home.

I have to stop reading here and take a deep breath to calm myself. Something did happen to Trevor, but it’s so much worse than just being sent home.

If I’m gone and you still want to go to the sublevel, find Imani. She works in the kitchen, and she’ll know how to help you. Meera, I know you’re looking for someone too.

This revelation startles me. I thought I’d been so secretive, quiet enough not to draw any attention to the real reason I’m here. But if Trevor saw through that, who else did?

I know you haven’t been asking me all those questions out of concern for Elizabeth. I don’t know who you’re looking for, but if you’re serious about locating them, find Imani. She’ll be able to help. And hopefully, if something did happen to me, you’ll have better luck.

iI fold the paper and press it against my chest, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the tears. I didn’t know Trevor well, but that doesn’t mean I can’t mourn for him. Just like me, he’d been looking for a loved one. Just like me, he’d dropped everything when an opportunity to come aboard the New Unity had presented itself. Just like me, all he’d been able to focus on was his missing loved one. And now, he’s dead. And I can’t help but think that, no matter how hard I try, I may end up just like him.