We had been floating round Sweeps-04, normal-like, when some area storm hit us laborious. Our ship acquired all banged up. (My Part is taught solely Reproductive Arts, so don’t ask me for particulars.) There’s an opportunity that we’ll go kaboom. They’re choosing individuals to be modified to breathe on Sweeps-04. Lombard, the ship’s AI, says I oughta stand out to get picked.
Lombard used to inform me star tales to assist me sleep. However now the ship’s all creaky and mad, and it’s like we’re residing in a type of spooky tales Lombard made up only for me.
Sleeveless lady
On the decrease decks, we’re bred to work or breed. Me, I’m 13, I put on tank tops like everybody else, and I’m so plain I might cry.
I need to stand out. So that they’ll hold me.
Decide up your life at mid-calf
Earlier than all this mess, we had been placing collectively a time capsule with bits of what we’re all about. Captain says to maintain at it, to distract us from, properly, probably dying. I believed I’d throw in a few of my messed-up poetry.
Take the road simply above, this paragraph title. It implies that, in case you’re going to be nixed right into a cloud of particles, it is best to stay no matter time is left in addition to you may. Sure, you need to elevate your self. Like, mid-calf, in case you can’t hoist your life greater. It’s an inexpensive objective.
So, I’m pondering, what if I develop into a poet? That’s gotta rely for one thing, proper?
Spiral-spiral Sections-Down
Part 45-Down. It’s the place my cubby is. A protracted, great distance down.
Spanish gray
On my deck, the partitions are gray. Lombard says it’s known as Spanish gray from a rustic on Earth.
This color’s neither cool nor heat. It’s impartial. Like me.
Strong-colour lady
I’ve noticed a woman from Part 27-Up, a pleasant deck the place I went as a result of the bathe cubicles are out of order from 28-Down. This lady has blue pores and skin. And her toes, when she slipped off her socks, had been like shiny porcelain. Completely couldn’t look away.
Vivid blue and white-footed — that’s very noticeable.
Learn extra science fiction from Nature Futures
Chick on the lateral rock
My poem acquired me a ticket to Sweeps-04, for a go to of our future dwelling, and guess who was there? Blue-skin lady, or Whitefoot, as I name her in my head.
As we had been touchdown, our shuttle did a quantity on a giant winged animal. The bird-thing squeaked in rage by our sensors. Whitefoot requested everybody to signal a letter to the Captain about defending native fauna. She didn’t ask me to signal. Perhaps I shouldn’t have hidden behind the final row of seats.
My buddy Lombard steered “larger social visibility.”
Women are trendy
On our deck, everyone is bred to look the identical, however some women simply shine a bit brighter. I can solely discuss in regards to the women as a result of I’ve by no means been on the boys’ decks. I simply know in regards to the typical boy they present you within the instructional vids.
Jacket with slenderizing collar
Lombard thinks I’m chubby, and it steered carrying a bio-tunic with a fat-melting collar. I instructed Lombard the place it might stash its slenderizing stuff. The AI didn’t take it properly.
Breathable individuals of excessive cubic capability
Younger persons are being chosen for the mods. I heard Whitefoot was good to go down on the planet, and I hope I’ll make it too.
Exhausting purple bovine on a captive nail
I used to be looking the Pavilion Bay (as a result of they let a choose group from the decrease decks climb up to have a look) after I noticed a purple cow! It was a dance of ionized gasoline wrapped round a big pointy asteroid we name The Nail. Whitefoot was there, too, however didn’t even look my method.
I used to be known as for the evaluation to trip the pods that’ll land on the planet. Perhaps I’m standing out from the gang (I used to be picked for the shuttle journey, and now for stargazing, proper?)
Wouldn’t that be one thing?
Hope is a neon worm
One among my poems has gone into the time capsule!
Glad dance!
Paragraph of the empty lady
Hope is a sneeze in zero gravity.
It’s not trying good for us non-special varieties. The Captain, all dirty, mentioned we should put together for the worst.
Lombard’s voice was all reedy and low. I acquired all of it earlier than he might proceed. Poets are down-down on the listing.
My stomach looks like an empty cubby.
Music-music contained in the wall
The individuals despatched right down to the floor will stay. The others is not going to. We’re about to develop into shards of nothing.
I mentioned hello-goodbye to Whitefoot, and he or she smiled kindly, however she didn’t acknowledge me as a result of I’d by no means talked to her earlier than.
I’ve acquired no one to speak to however the women that didn’t make the minimize, and so they’re moody.
Music with no phrases comes out of the partitions.
Lombard had one final piece of recommendation: “Gown up in your best, smile large for the cameras of the Social Research Division — it’s our remaining scene.” However ‘best’ isn’t a phrase for what I’ve acquired in my wardrobe. The one factor shut is a long-long scarf I discovered in Whitefoot’s cubby.
The air is skinny. I’m seeing black dots. My head is light-light.
I clutch Whitefoot’s scarf prefer it’s my lifeline.
(Whitefoot’s identify is Juliette.)
Forgotten scarf
Than it hits me. The headscarf in my arms, Juliette’s scarf, isn’t simply cloth. It’s proof that Juliette is a part of my story now. It makes me really feel like I’ve lived greater than my years. And perhaps, simply perhaps, it makes it simpler, figuring out I’ll be remembered for my phrases lengthy after we’re gone, even when simply in a tin can floating among the many stars.
scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf-scarf
(lengthy)
-o-
