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Static. It was all static. Either that or some weird space noise that sent Marie flying a couple feet into the air. She wasn’t sure why she was expecting anything different. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what she was doing anymore.
Jupiter had dimmed significantly in the Ganymedian sky since she first entered the communications room. The room seemed to stretch out in all directions, a black void around Marie’s desperate mind, which had started playing tricks on her, imagining Annabeth’s voice in the constant crackle of the radio.
She wasn’t there. How could she be? Transmissions between Ganymede and Earth were difficult, even when it’s done by professionals using hi-tech equipment. And if she heard her voice, her sweet voice, what would she say?
Would she even recognize Annabeth anymore?
Marie ignores her mind. She would recognize Annabeth’s voice. She would. Her fingers fix on the keyboard, shaking as she sends another command to one of Ganymede’s antennae...
Marie scrunches her nose. That cannot possibly be from Earth. What the hell could that even be?
Maybe it’s a planetary emission?
What the hell. It’s not important.
It’s some weird warbling noise. Like if someone wiggled a metal sheet in space. Or somewhere with a thick atmosphere, Marie figures.
Sounds like a weird electromagnetic wave coming from somewhere. Entirely useless to Marie’s mission. She moves on.
It’s probably from Earth. The signal is weak, stretched thin over 5 astronomical units. However, rough shapes of human speech can be made out, although Marie’s not sure what’s being said …
After a few more seconds of listening, the signal gives out. Despite this, hope surges in Marie’s body. Maybe…
ENTER >VSN-017;SENDSIGNAL<”Annabeth, it’s Marie…”>
ENTER >VSN-O17;SENDSIGNAL<”Hello? Can anyone hear me? I’m looking for my sister…”>
Static. It gets louder for a second before quieting. Marie’s heard enough static today to last a lifetime.
Marie groans. Freaky ass space noise. She’d probably find it interesting if she was in a better mood.
“Annabeth, it’s Marie,” Marie’s voice wavers into the mic. “I know it’s been a while, but I haven’t forgotten about you. At all. I miss you… So much. I just want you to know that. If this somehow reaches you. I hope it does…” Her voice trails off. “I know you probably hate me for… For everything. I wish I could…” Fuck.
She’s rambling. She’s rambling and she sounds so desperate and pathetic.
And to make it even worse, a voice sounds from the radio signal. And it’s not Annabeth. Of course it isn’t.
“Marie? Is that you…?”
Marie huffs. “Cate,” she responds. “Hi.”
“VSN17 is supposed to be down for maintenance, you know,” Cate says in a singsong-y tone. “So you’re, like, not supposed to be using it,” she chastises playfully, although Marie isn’t in the mood for it.
She rolls her eyes. “What are you even doing online right now?”
“Sending out program updates to my Vought probe. Her name is Gwendolyn and she’s currently near Pluto.” A long silence follows.
“That’s cool,” Marie rushes to answer after realizing she’s being awkward. She swallows thickly, embarrassment creeping up her neck. “Uh, how much of that did you hear?”
“A lot.” Then, probably with a tilt of her head, Cate goes, “Who’s Annabeth?”
“Hello? Can anyone hear me? I’m looking for my sister. Her name is Annabeth… Moreau. Annabeth Moreau. She’s–” Marie stops abruptly. She– she doesn’t know what her sister looks like. “She’s 16 years old. Black. Um. I– I think she lives in New York City, still. I don’t know, actually… God, I’m so fucking stupid…”
Marie leans back in her chair, eyes welling with tears. What is she doing? She’s a pathetic excuse for an older sister. She doesn’t even know what Annabeth looks like. How could she not fucking know? What the fuck is wrong with her?
A voice from the radio signal interrupts her self-loathing. “...Marie?”
“...She’s my little sister.” The words tumble out of her mouth, falling off the desk and onto the floor.
Cate’s answer comes just as awkwardly. “Oh.” She pauses. “Is she on Earth, or…?”
“Earth,” Marie replies. “Or– I don’t know. I think so. I haven’t seen her since I left Earth. And that was eight years ago.”
“Ah… I see.”
Another long silence follows, more agonizing than the last. Marie fiddles with one of her locs.
“Let me help you look for her,” Cate announces suddenly. “I’ve, um, transmitted commands from the Vought antennae to space probes. Transmitting messages to Earth is a different story, but… I want to help you. It sounds like she meant a lot to you.”
“Marie. 20 minutes of looking. Let me start there. Please?”
She imagines Cate’s sad, wet eyes blinking at her. “Fine…” Marie says. “Fine, I’ll let you help me.”
“Yay! I knew you’d come around! Ah, then why don’t we start with…”
The beginnings of a command slowly appear on Marie’s screen. She imagines Cate gingerly pressing keys on a keyboard, tapping each letter one by one.
“Um.. Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Come on,” Cate prods. “You can tell me. Unless you’re dead set on being a mystery forever.”
“Why the fuck do you care so much?” Marie snaps. “It’s none of your business.”
There’s a bit of disturbance in the transmission. It rises in volume, crackling and snapping, before dying down again.
“I thought we were friends,” Cate mutters. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”
The transmission fades, quieting until there’s nothing but silence. Marie’s alone once again. Darkness stretches out around her, supercomputers blinking like emotionless stars.
CONGRATS! You got the ALONE MARIE ENDING!
Marie huffs. “Cate. Please. Leave me the fuck alone,” she responds.
“VSN17 is supposed to be down for maintenance, you know,” Cate says, not leaving her alone. “So you’re, like, not supposed to be using it,” she adds in a tone that sounds like she does not care in the slightest.
Marie rolls her eyes. “Who the fuck cares? I used it anyway.” What would the VXA do about it? Send her out into space? Maybe she deserves it. “And what are you even doing online right now?”
“Sending out program updates to my Vought probe. Her name is Gwendolyn and she’s currently near Pluto.” A long silence follows. Then, probably with a tilt of her head, Cate goes, “Were you… Talking to somebody?”
“Shut up, Cate. I know you heard the whole thing.”
“I didn’t, I swear!” Marie rolls her eyes again and, as if she can actually see her, Cate says, “Okay, yeah, I– I did. I’m sorry. I swear it was a mistake. I must’ve accidentally–”
“It’s fine,” Marie says, if only to stop the stream of excuses coming from Cate’s mouth.
“I could, ah…” Cate begins. “I could help you look for her.”
“What? If I can’t, what makes you think you can?”
“Well, I’ve, um, transmitted commands from the Vought antennae to space probes. Transmitting messages to Earth is a different story, but… I could, like, totally help you with that. If you’ll let me.”
Marie sighs. “If you really think you can. Then, by all means, go for it.”
“Yay! I knew you’d come around!” Cate chirps. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Hmm, let’s start with, um…”
The beginnings of a command slowly appear on Marie’s screen. She sighs as Cate presumably presses each letter one by one.
“Thank you, but no, Cate.”
“Aww, come on! Let me help you!” she pleads.
“Why the fuck do you care so much?” Marie snaps. “It’s none of your business.”
There’s a bit of disturbance in the transmission. It rises in volume, crackling and snapping, before dying down again.
“I thought we were friends,” Cate mutters. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”
“Hmm. It’s probably picking up on a Vought probe signal. It sounds like a planetary emission or something,” Cate says. “There’s, like, almost a hundred of them out in space by this point. We can try again.”
Marie tilts her head. “Cate, can I ask you something?”
“Ask me whatever. I don’t bite— unless, of course, you want me to.”
“What? Cate!“
There’s a giggle covered by piles of static, but is somehow clear as day in Marie’s mind. She imagines the wink of a mischievous blue eye.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, I just wanted to ask you—“ Marie begins, then, “—do you like being on Ganymede?”
The radio transmission buzzes for a moment. “It’s interesting,” comes Cate’s voice.
“Yeah, but do you like it?” When she doesn’t receive an answer, Marie continues. “You sound enthusiastic on the surface, but… I feel like… Actually, forget I said anything.”
“No, I do like it! I really do! And I’m so grateful that I get to be up here with you and Luke and Andre and Jordan and… Everyone is so wonderful. I really love you guys.”
Marie squints her eyes. “But..?”
“But…”
Cate sighs. “They don’t get it. They don’t remember Earth like I do. They don’t remember the warmth of sunlight on their skin, or the wind on a chilly autumn morning, or the dewdrops on flower leaves in April. They don’t know any of that. All they know is how pretty Earth looks from a telescope.”
The memories of playing with Annabeth– pushing her baby sister on a swing set, chasing her around on a bright-colored playground– they flash in her mind. Suddenly, a twisting ache forms in Marie’s chest. She didn’t realize how much she missed Earth’s warmth.
“You know, back on Earth, I loved nature. Me and my family would go on road trips all the time, and I would bring a sketchbook and draw whatever I saw– trees, birds, squirrels, leaves. And, actually, when I was eight, me and my family took a vacation to the Appalachian mountains. We stayed in a cabin for a week, and… It was– beautiful. The most beautiful thing in the universe.”
Static hangs in the air between them; not dissonant, but not comfortable either. It’s just there.
“It was also when the coughing started,” comes Cate’s voice in a shaky tone. “I–I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was choking on air– because I was. Earth’s atmosphere was becoming too thick. People like us… We aren’t meant to be in a place like Earth. We’re meant to be in thin, cold atmospheres. That’s what Vought made us for.
“But, you know, I tried to hide it for as long as I could,” Cate continues. “‘Til, a year later, we went on a camping trip. My little brother, Caleb, was trying to go to sleep, but I couldn’t stop coughing. So he told me to shut up. And in response, I grabbed him, and told him to, ‘just leave, if you really can’t stand it.’ …So he did.”
White noise washes over the transmission once more as Cate’s voice fades. Marie blinks for a few moments, utterly conflicted.
“Cate… I– I had no idea,” she says eventually.
“Well, I never told you ‘til now, so… How could you have known?”
Marie shrugs. “I guess so,” she replies, watching Cate type another command to VSN-017.
“Mom and Dad wanted nothing more to do with me. So the VXA swooped in, put me in a tiny capsule and sent me out into space. And as they lifted me away, I watched Earth’s sunset through the teensy-tiny window of the capsule. I tried to remember every single last detail of it. Because I knew I wouldn’t ever see it again.”
There’s a muffled, scratchy sniffle over the radio. “I miss Earth. So much. But it’s already been 11 years. I can’t go back. My family– Mom, Dad, Caleb– they’re all gone. And I have to accept that.”
Marie opens her mouth to speak, despite her quivering lip. “I miss my family too,” she begins. “My mom, my dad, my sister– I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing them again, even when I was on that fucking spaceship, watching the Earth get smaller, and smaller, and smaller… Even though I don’t know if they’re even fucking alive, because…” She trails off.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Cate says. “If you don’t want to.”
A moment passes before Marie speaks again. “I still have hope. That I’ll see them again. Even though I know that’s super fucking stupid and they’re gone forever, but–”
“It’s not!” Cate says sternly. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Marie…” Her voice breaks a little bit. “Even though we’re made to be in space, we’re still human. Even if you can control heartbeats. Even if you can mutate life. You’re still a thinking, feeling person, my love.”
She can almost feel Cate’s desperation through the transmission, although it still falls flat. She’s a monster. Cate doesn’t even know the whole truth about her. How can she be so sure?
“If you could go back to Earth right now,” Cate begins, “...What would you do?”
Marie pauses. “I would…
“...Visit my family.”
She pauses to hear Cate’s reaction, but there’s none. So she continues.
“But that’s– that’s a dream. And I don’t even know if I would want to go, really.” It’s been eight years. If they’re alive, they probably moved on from her. Maybe even had another baby. A new dynamic, with new traditions– all without her. And Marie’s fine with that. “I just want to know if they’re okay.”
“Tell me about them,” Cate blurts. “Your, uh, family.”
“Um…” Marie’s surprised by the question, although she really shouldn’t be. Everything about this interaction with Cate has been strangely intimate. "Well, my mom grew up in The Bronx. My dad grew up in Manhattan, I think, before moving to The Bronx. They met in high school, and they’ve been in love ever since… I think my dad gave my mom a pair of Timbs as a prom gift.” A real New York love story, Marie thinks.
Cate gasps. “Your parents were high school sweethearts? That makes sooo much sense!”
“Huh? Why?”
“You’re such a sweet and kind person– so it only makes sense that you were born from two people full of love for each other.”
“Oh…” Embarrassment heats Marie’s face. “T-Thank you,” she stutters. “I grew up in The Bronx, but my mom always talked about moving away so she could raise me and Annabeth somewhere else. Said The Bronx wasn’t right for two little girls. But my dad was too stubborn. That or he had too much pride– I don’t know. Probably both. So we stayed.”
If Marie could see her dad again, she would tell him about the walks home from school, where she would constantly fear for Annabeth’s life; where there were people on the street who wouldn’t think twice about kidnapping and selling her and Annabeth for drug money. And if she told him, hopefully he could understand why she did what she did.
“If I’m being honest, Ganymede is kind of an upgrade,” Marie says. “There’s no junkies or crack fiends or trash piles. Maybe some pretentious assholes, though.”
“Marie, I… I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that you grew up around that.”
“There were fun parts, don’t worry! It wasn’t all bad.” The afternoons she spent playing in fire hydrants with other kids on the block. Going to the corner store and buying snacks with Annabeth. Annabeth… “And my sister… I miss her the most. We couldn’t see the stars in New York, but we used to dream about them. Read constellation books together.”
“So you were always a nerd about space, huh?” Cate says.
Marie cracks a smile. "Be quiet, Cate.”
Muffled giggles come through the transmission anyway. “Well, even if we can’t quite contact her, I know she’s probably down on Earth looking up at us right now. I hope that can bring you some comfort.”
“It does... A little.”
Maybe when she’s a renowned Ganymedian documentarian, Annabeth will look at the stars and finally feel proud of her big sister, instead of ashamed.
“And I hope she knows that her big sister is up here, watching over her from the stars.”
“I’m sure she does,” Cate says. “And if I hear from her, you’ll be the first one I contact, okay?”
Marie sighs. “Okay.”
CONGRATS! You got the I MISS MY FAMILY ending!
Marie trails off. There’s so many things she wishes she could do.
Cate rushes to reassure her. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s a hard question, I know.” There’s a beat of crackling silence. “You wanna know what I’d do?”
“What would you do?”
“I would go to a meadow and have a picnic. On a beautiful, sunny day, preferably. Butterflies hopping from flower to flower. Lilies, dandelions, and daisies dancing in the soft breeze. Petals flying all around us…”
“Us?”
Cate giggles. “Don’t you want to come with me too?”
Marie flushes, face instantly hot. “Uh– yes! I do.” Then, with a sudden wave of confidence, she asserts, “I’m bringing fruit.”
“Ooh, what kind?”
“Grapes, strawberries, cherries. A few oranges and apples…”
“Thank you, Marie. May I have an apple?’
“Yes– of course,” she stammers, trying to find her groove in whatever game they’re playing.
“Thank you, my love. You’re a peach.”
Marie giggles. “Wait, I think I want some peaches too.”
“You can have peaches, silly,” Cate says. "You can have anything you want.”
Something like sunlight tickled her skin, as if she was actually there.
“I wanna put a flower in your hair. May I?”
Marie closes her eyes. “You may.”
“Okay. I reach over, pluck a lily from the grass. And then I brush your hair aside, placing it firmly in your ear...”
She feels the warmth of Cate’s fingers brush against her face, like a faint memory. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful, Marie.”
“You think so?”
“Yes,” Cate breathes. “The most beautiful thing in the universe.”
Marie glances away, bashful. “Cate…”
“You’re so easy to tease, you know that?” She imagines Cate winking at her, eyes sparkling in the light. The image makes her more embarrassed, somehow.
“Can you call me beautiful again?”
“Of course, my love,” she says easily. “You’re beautiful.”
The compliment hits just as hard the second time. Warmth rises in Marie’s belly. “You’re beautiful, too,” she says, in a surge of affection.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you are.”
She hopes that she made Cate a little bashful with that.
“We don’t have to leave just yet. We can stay until the sun sets.” Cate’s voice is barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” Marie replies. “What does the sunset look like?”
Cate draws in a breath. “It’s…
“...It’s a bright orange, vibrant. Sunlight bathes our meadow with a brilliant golden glow. Can you see it?”
“I can.” She can feel its warmth, too, like she’s really there. “Can I lay my head on your shoulder?”
There’s a gasp on the other line, barely audible. “Of course, my love. You can stay there for as long as you’d like.”
“It’s incredible. I wish I could see this every day.”
“Oh, Marie…” Cate says. “I promise you can see this every day. If you’d like to.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
CONGRATS! You got the…..? YURI!? ending!
