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It was cold in Eden. It always had been cold as far as Simon was concerned, the important grown-ups preferring the space station chilled, constantly donned in their mass of robes.
Yet it had gotten exceptionally cold in the past few weeks, some halls left so underheated that you could see your breath walking through them. Everyone was scrambling, ranting about resources and raptures, refraining from explaining what they were so worried about.
“Beat it, Simon!” an older boy yelled, kicking Simon out of the blanket pile he’d amassed. “Stay out of my stuff!”
Everyone on Eden was mean. This, he was sure this had always been true. Running through freezing halls, ignoring everyone that called after him, Simon made his way to the last warm person he knew.
“Momma?” he called as he finally reached the dormitories. “Mommaaaaaa?”
Rushing to the room he shared with his mother, Simon reached up towards the doorknob, hesitating as he heard a sort of hiccupping from the other side.
“Momma?” Simon asked as he gently opened the door and swung it inward.
There lay his mother, face down on her bed, limbs curled under her body, and head buried in her pillow, body-wracking sobs muffled by the plush support.
“Momma?” he asked, taking a few quiet steps inside.
At once, his mother snapped upwards with a sharp gasp, silencing her own cries as if she had never been sobbing in the first place. “Heeeey, sweetheart,” she cooed, attempting to put on a smile as she turned to face him. “Need something?”
Suddenly tattling on the other boys and complaining about the cold didn’t seem so important anymore. “Are you alright, Momma?” he asked, toddling forward and reaching up for her. “Are you still sick?”
“Oh, baby…” she said, picking him off the floor and swinging him up onto her lap, kissing his temple several times over. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”
She held him tight, rubbing at his back with her chin set atop his head. So cozy was her embrace that he simply let the moment linger for a few minutes before asking, “Momma?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” she said, jaw clacking on his skull.
“When can we go home?”
She froze, hand growing still over his spine. With a deep inhale, she pulled back a bit, taking him by the shoulders. “Not until I get better,” she answered, the same answer she’d been giving for months. “But Eden is going to start having some… trouble making the medicine I need, so we might be here longer than I first promised. Can you be strong and patient? For me?”
Staring up into his mother’s eyes, still bloodshot from her sobbing, Simon asked, “You won’t leave without me?”
Furrowing her brow, Simon’s mother cupped his face, looking him dead in the eye as she said, “Never.”
Not quite pleased but unwilling to upset his mother, Simon said, “Alright, Momma. I’ll be patient.”
She gave him a proud smile, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead. “That’s my boy.”