The goodbyes were awkward and short. Gabriel would not miss any of his aunt’s family, nor did he expect them to miss him. He had always known that he was a financial and emotional burden to them. They had been good to him nonetheless, so he was glad that he had paid off in the end. But he was also glad that he would not be going with them. Aboard a colony ship, and on some distant semi-habitable planet, there would be no strangers, no anonymity. This was better.

Major Bryant also accompanied them to the airport to bid Gabriel farewell. He told Gabriel that his mother would be proud. Gabriel knew that this was not what his mother had wanted for him. She had wanted to take his sister and him to another world and start a new life. But Gabriel did not correct Bryant.

When Gabriel finally took leave of them and passed through security, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from him. He felt free again, like he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was such a relief to be away from them all, away from their suffocating compassion. Gabriel waited at his gate with zen-like calm, knowing that the worst was behind him.

From London he flew to Cairo to Beijing, and there he followed the signs to the UCN’s private terminal. He showed the uniformed officer his papers, and was admitted. There was a line of children about his age waiting in line at the security checkpoint. Gabriel noted the armed officers arranged around the room, looking watchful.

He came to the front of the line. “Identification,” said the uniformed woman in New Mandarin. She held out her hand. Gabriel handed her his papers. She studied them, made a few notations on her computer, and handed them back. “Go to Section 2,” she instructed.

Gabriel three corridors branched from the security checkpoint. Gabriel followed the Section 2 hallway to another line of children beside a sign which read “Processing”.

“Identification,” said the uniformed man when Gabriel reached the front. He looked at the papers and tapped at his computer for a while. Gabriel looked at the long wall-mounted mirror behind the man and wondered if anyone was watching through it. He then watched the reflection of the computer screen.

“Your bag?” the man asked, drawing Gabriel’s attention away from the mirror.

“I don’t have one,” Gabriel replied, trying hard to make sure his pronunciation was clear. Since prep school had ended almost two months before he hadn’t had much chance to practice his New Mandarin.

The man went back to his computer. Gabriel hadn’t brought a bag because Bryant had told him not to. Had he done something wrong?

At length the man handed him a stack of clothes and small bag. “Dress in this room here and put your clothes in the bag. Then go into the waiting room.” He did not give Gabriel’s papers back.

There were pants, socks, underwear, and a shirt. The shoes felt too small. Gabriel put his old clothes in the bag and pulled the tie string.

The room beyond the processing station was a circular chamber with only one other door. The walls around the door were windows, and through them a transport jet with the insignia of the UCN on its side could be seen waiting. There were many children in the room already—Gabriel estimated fifty—and all the chairs, benches, and convenient ledges had been taken already. Gabriel found a spot against the wall to stand, where he could see both doors without turning his head too much.

Gabriel counted sixty-three children while he waited, one of whom was Naomi Bishop from the London prep school. Hoping she would not see him, he sat down on the floor, sacrificing much of his view of the room for a chance at preserving his peace. When the number had grown to seventy-five, no more children came in. A voice came on over the speakers in the room announcing in a pleasant tone that the children should examine their belongings and pick one article to take with them to the school. The white noise of chatter in the room dimmed suddenly, and then rose again. Gabriel understood then why Bryant had told him not to bring anything; better to leave it all than to have to choose. Before long adults came in with carts and began moving among the children, collecting bags and backpacks. From Gabriel they took only the bag containing his clothes. Then the guards opened the door to the transport walkway, and the pleasant voice instructed the children to line up. Neither possessing nor mourning the loss of personal effects, Gabriel was among the first in line. One of the children in front of him was caught trying to smuggle more than one belonging on board, and was pulled out of line while the concealed article was confiscated and a note of the offence was made in an officer’s computer. No comment was made regarding Gabriel’s empty hands when he reached the front. It occurred to him, too late, that he should have offered to carry something in for someone. A favor owed was always valuable. He wished he’d thought of it in time.

Despite its sleek shape, the transport’s interior looked disappointingly similar to those of commercial jets. Gabriel was directed to what would have been a window seat but for the lack of windows. The seat backs were too tall to see much, soon another boy was seated next to him. The boy clutched a small crucifix nervously and did not speak much, which was fine with Gabriel. Video screens above the seats repeated instructions for buckling their seat belts, though he didn’t find the mechanism particularly complex. Eventually, without any announcement being made, the transport began rolling. The seats shook slightly as the transport gained speed. The boy next to Gabriel gripped his little cross so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

And then, with a feeling of sudden weight, they were airborne.

"I'm so proud of you," he said softly, and she clung to him a little longer and then let go so he could be proud of her again. He smiled at her and she smiled back. There were other children and their parents here, and she could hear that some of them were crying. That firmed her resolve, and she swallowed again and smiled a little more.

"I love you. I'll come to see you as soon as I can, ok?"

"I love you too. Ok." She sounded sort of sad to herself, but he didn't seem to notice. He smoothed her hair away from her forehead and kissed the middle of it. She wanted to hug him again, but he was already standing up and the moment had passed. He handed her the little bag he'd been carrying for her and then her blue information card, and she took these things without looking at them. His face was proud, and it made her feel stronger.

He didn't say anything else, and so after a moment she turned and started walking towards the guards.

"Alexandra?"

He called her name, and she turned back, her heart beating faster. Had she forgotten to do something? He usually waited for her to make her mistakes before he corrected her. Maybe he changed his mind and he wanted her to stay.

But he just smiled at her again, and she wanted to run back to him and throw her arms around him. She just held onto the handle of the bag more tightly as he stroked her cheek. "It'll be ok," he said just above a whisper, so no one else would hear and she wouldn't be embarrassed. "Go on."

She nodded, chagrined that her distress had been so apparent, and then walked to the growing line of children in front of the station. There were only two or three people in front of her, and when the woman asked her for identification she gave her name and waited a full three seconds before she realized that she had to give the woman her card.

The woman took it impatiently and scanned it and looked at the screen before her. "Section Two," she said shortly and gave back the card. She got out of the next child's way and moved into the larger room beyond it. There were three hallways at right angles to one another, and each had a number printed over it.

There were other children moving through the room. Most glanced up quickly at the hallway labels and moved on, but there was one who stood near the side of the room, looking at some papers in his hand and then at the labels above the doors. At first she thought it was a girl because of the long hair, but when she got closer and saw his face, tense and unhappy, she could tell it was a boy. She stopped and in front of him and he glanced at her with apprehension like he was looking at an unfamiliar animal and then went back to looking.

Other kids were streaming past them but no one else stopped, so she tried a smile. He blinked at her and didn't respond, but she had his attention.

"Are you lost?" she asked in neo, and he let out a long breath like he'd be holding it. "She talked very quickly," he replied apologetically in the same language. His accent was a little strange but he was intelligible, and she was about to ask him if she could see his papers when an adult hand came down on her shoulder. She jumped and looked up and flinched at the disapproving expression on the officer's face.

"What section are you in?" he demanded. "Two," Alexandra replied meekly. "That way," indicated the officer impatiently with a little push, and she walked slowly toward the hallway, glancing back at the boy. She wanted to say that she'd known where she was supposed to go already, and that she had just been trying to help because the boy was lost, and that the woman at the front talked too fast for people who didn't already know neo-Mandarin well, but the officer was already shuffling the boy back to the woman behind the desk. They snapped at each other in plain Mandarin and then the officer hustled the boy across the room again and into the Section Three doorway.

A little disappointed that they wouldn't be in the same section - whatever that meant - she entered the Section Two hallway and walked to the end of it. There was a line of children against the wall and she joined it. Some of them had papers to hand to the officer, and some had cards like hers. She didn't hesitate to hand it over this time when the man asked for it, and he swiped it and glanced at the screen, then at her. Behind him there was a big mirror, and she saw herself starting to slouch and tried to stand a little straighter. She looked sad, and so she forced a calm face instead, and she was just beginning to get bored with changing her expressions when there was a thump as a parcel came down the chute next to man. He reached inside and took it out - a grey bundle, tightly wrapped - and scanned the label on it before handing it to her.

"Leave your bag in that bin," he said, gesturing to a green plastic tub next to him, "and get dressed. Room 12." He indicated a series of alcoves with curtains across them and went back to his terminal. "Put your clothes in this." He handed her a green plastic bag with a drawstring top. "Don't forget your cross," he added, noticing the chain around her neck. "When you're done, come back and take your bag to the waiting room." He nodded toward the end of the hall and then looked back to his terminal. "Next."

She put her bag into the tub and took the unfamiliar bundle with her to the small alcove marked 12. Once inside, she set the bundle down on the small shelf meant for sitting and untied it. There was a white short sleeved shirt made out of stretchy material and a pair of dark grey pants made out of something tougher. There were black boots and a pair of white underwear and a pair of white socks. She took off what she was wearing and looked at the little Magen David she'd had around her neck before placing it carefully on top of her old clothes. She pulled the new clothes on. The zipper was hard to move and the button was backwards, and the clothes felt stiff with newness and smelled unfamiliar, but everything fit. The boots were heavy on her feet, and she took the step or two the alcove allowed, trying to get used to them.

She folded her clothes and put them into the green plastic bag with the silver Magen David and pulled it closed tightly and tied the top. Then she straightened everything she was wearing and headed back to the man. Another bag had joined hers in the bin, and she pulled her own out from under it and walked down the hallway and into the waiting room.

It was very crowded, and children were talking too loudly to each other or standing against the walls and staring at everyone else. Some were laughing. A few were crying. It was the loudest, noisiest, biggest group of children she could remember seeing, and she immediately shrank against the wall and tried to stay out of everyone's way. She tried smiling at a few of them, but they either didn't see her or ignored her, and eventually she just stood there and held on to her duffel and the green bag and pretended to be brave. There were windows, and through the windows she could see a smooth, fast-looking plane.

"Attention," said the loudspeaker after a time, "your attention, please. It is almost time for you to depart. Please examine your belongings and select a single item to take with you. The rest will be placed into our UCN storage facility."

Everyone was quiet until it finished, and then there was more talking and rustling as people went through their luggage. She knelt down next to her bag and started to search a little frantically. A book? She had three, one she'd read and two she hadn't. Would it be better to take one she didn't know? She looked at her father's picture longingly, but she didn't have anywhere safe to put it and she didn't want it to get crumpled. She had intended to take it in one of the books, but what if they found it? She couldn't take her music; it would be no use without the player, and the player no use without the music. She knew she should take the Magen David, but there was so much left behind.

Then the man with the cart was there, and she closed her eyes and pulled out something soft, a stuffed animal her father had given her when she was a baby. The rest of her belongings went into the green bag, and the man with the cart scanned the label on it and moved on. Bereft, she examined the item she'd saved as if looking for some reason why it was better than her father's picture or the Magen David. It was a small fuzzy cat, plush dark brown with brown eyes, and she hugged it helplessly as the rest of the others turned their bags in. They were lined up after that, and single file they were marched into the plane and seated.

She realized that it had looked smooth because there were no windows, and after she buckled her seat belt she looked at the girl next to her. The girl looked bored, and she stared at Alexandra with disinterest until she had to look down so she wouldn't see the girl's face anymore. The girl's hands were empty, but she wore a small gold ring with a red stone.

When the loudspeaker announced that everyone had to pick just one item to take with them, Naomi was not alone in her shocked disbelief. The momentary silence quickly passed, giving way to a panicked din as people asked each other if they had understood correctly. Naomi bit her lip and unzipped her bag. She hadn't brought much; she didn't own much. What could she do without? Naomi dragged her blanket out of the bag, sadly. The cart was circulating in the other direction, and she was left for a few minutes to contemplate her choice. She wasn't sure she had made the right one, but she could not bear to put it back.

The loudspeaker instructed them to queue up before the cart had even reached her, and Naomi noted that Gabriel was one of the first in line. Without having a very good reason, she found herself resenting him.

Finally they took her backpack away, and Naomi got in line, trying to keep her blanket from dragging on the ground and getting stepped on. The girl standing in front of her was carrying a small stuffed cat, which made Naomi miss her giraffe Horation and wonder if she should step out of line and try to catch the cart before it left. Indecision paralyzed Naomi, and the cart soon left, having collected all the bags. It took a long time to reach the front, though Naomi couldn't see what was taking so long. Eventually the girl in front of her reached the door, and Naomi saw the grownups hold out a small metal box with a flip-up lid for her personal item. Panic gripped Naomi as the girl deposited her cat and proceeded down the walkway. There was no way her blanket could fit in so small a box.

The grownups looked at Naomi and her blanket. The one holding a new empty box closed it and put it back in its slot on a big wheeled rack. The other explained, speaking slowly and enunciating, that Naomi's blanket was too big to take and should have been left in her bag. They looked about for the cart, but Naomi had already seen it leave minutes ago. They told her to leave the blanket with them and they would make sure it was stored with her things.

Naomi trudged along the enclosed walkway, feeling stupid and wanting to cry. She followed the hand gestures of the grownups in the plane guiding her to her seat, and dropped into it with a sigh of despair.

The girl who had been holding the cat was sitting beside her, against the curved wall. Naomi looked at her and tried to sound steady as she said, "Hi."

The plane lifted off soon. Once they were in the air Naomi and the girl chatted a bit. Her name was Alexandra, but Alex was fine. She seemed nice. Talking made Naomi feel a little better.

The plane trip was much shorter than any of the others Naomi had had to take to reach Beijing. Once on the ground, however, the plane seemed to spend a long time rolling. Eventually They came to a stop, and the door was opened. Grownups pointed to children when it was alright to stand up and walk toward the front of the plane. Naomi's and Alex's turn came before long. When they emerged from the plane, Naomi was surprised to find that they were already in an enclosed hangar. She waited with Alex and the others as the children streamed from the plane's door, until finally all were unloaded. Naomi spied the wheeled rack containing personal belongings being towed away.

There were several adults standing off to the side that did not seem to be involved with the details of the plane. Most were young officers holding computers, but standing near the middle of the group was an older man with a colonel's insignia on his uniform. Naomi pointed him out to Alex, suggesting that he was probably the C.O. As soon as she had mentioned it, the junior officers began fanning out and instructing the kids to quiet down. The colonel cleared his throat, and began what seemed a rather practiced speech.

"Good morning, students," he said. Naomi had no idea if in fact it really was morning; she remembered seeing the sun on the horizon in Beijing, but she had long before lost track of the time zones and hadn't known if it was rising or setting. Then there had been the plane ride without windows, and she could not have guessed how far they had traveled by that means. Her body's clock was telling her that it was nearly time to go to bed, so she had to take his word for it.

He continued, "I am Colonel Lo, Headmaster of the UCN's Siberia Campus." Not far from Beijing then, at least where time zones were concerned. "You are here to train to become the officers of tomorrow, manning our colony ships, our survey and exploratory vessels, and our installations here on Earth and throughout the solar system. Only a select few are chosen from the millions of colonist candidates, about a one hundred thousandth of a percent. The resources of the UCN allow for only a few colony ship launches a year, and we need to put our very finest onboard to see their cargo safely to new worlds, where humanity can take root and flourish. Each of you has special qualities which will make you a necessary and valuable component of our cause. Siberia Campus is one of the UCN's Stage 1 facilities, and is focused on giving each of you a broad education which will serve as a foundation for the more specialized training you will receive at Stage 2. In a moment you will be separated into your clusters and introduced to your counselors, who will be your mentors and guardians your first rotation. For the next six years this will be your home, and your education will be your life. Work hard, study, and learn all you can. Humanity needs you. Good luck."

The Colonel gave a small bow, and dismissed himself. One of the junior officers addressed the group, announcing that the students' names would be called and that they should report to their counselor. Then three of the grownups began taking turns calling out names. Alex was one of the first called, and Gabriel soon after that, and Naomi found herself very much hoping she would be assigned to Cluster A. As luck would have it, she was.

"Hello, boys and girls," said the woman who had called names for Naomi's group. "I'm Lieutenant Kostal. Everyone follow me and stick close, we're going to go to our barracks now."

The three groups -- clusters, the grownups called them -- were led by their respective counselors to a wide platform surrounded by a metal railing. The platform sank through the floor, descending a wide shaft. The shaft seemed to go down a long ways, but Naomi could not guess how far from looking up; the hangar ceiling was difficult to distinguish from the shaft walls after the first few dozen meters. Eventually the platform came to rest, and the railing parted. Each of the clusters was led off in a different direction. The corridors had a utilitarian look to them, with pipes and naked cabling running along ceilings and walls. They made Naomi feel uncomfortably claustrophobic. She lost track of the corners they turned quickly. After a few minutes of walking they came to a more reasonably-scaled lift. Lt. Kostal pressed the call button and turned to address the students.

"Alright, children. Ten at a time, wait at the bottom. Don't wander off, if I have to come find you I'll be very unhappy about it. First ten, inside," she said as the doors opened. The few children at the front of the group moved into the box, followed by small clumps as the students sorted out how many made ten and who would fill out that number. Gabriel might have just been near the front by coincidence, but he made sure he was in the first group in any case. Lt. Kostal leaned in to press a button, and then backed out to let the doors close. She pressed the call button again. It took only a few moments for the doors to open once more, revealing an empty box. The next group filed in. Naomi might have been able to make it in, but she'd have had to crowd and decided it would be less cramped as part of the last group. Alex apparently made the same judgement. When the lift returned once more, they were the first in. Lt. Kostal stepped in as well. There were buttons marked 0 through 3, the last of which Lt. Kostal pressed to make the doors close. The lift accelerated quickly enough to give Naomi a momentary feeling of weightlessness, and a corresponding weight as it slowed. The doors opened to reveal a small crowd of children milling about in the corridor outside. Gabriel was among them, though Naomi had to wonder if he had been the entire time.

The corridors in this part of the school were more finished, paneled in pliant tope plastic. As Lt. Kostal led them away from the lift she said, "This is the Classroom Level. You'll have four classes a day starting in two days on this level. You'll get a full tour later this afternoon, so don't worry about learning your way just yet. Ahead are the student lifts, which you will use to get from level to level." The lobby ahead had four lifts, around which many of the other children from the plane were waiting. Naomi guessed that there had been several lifts running from whatever level they had gotten off the big platform at to this one, and that the clusters had split up for efficiency's sake. One of the clusters was down to five students and a counselor waiting for a lift, and the other was already down ten and filling a lift with another ten. The next lift to arrive went to the waiting counselor and his remaining students, and the one after that carried the first group from Cluster A. Naomi maneuvered to be part of the first group, but in doing so became separated from Alex. This lift had buttons for levels 3 through 5, and Lt. Kostal sent them to the bottom.

In the lobby area of level 5, Naomi waited with her fellow students. "Hello, Hunter," she said sweetly to the conspicuously stoic boy from her prep school.

"Hello, Bishop," Gabriel replied, his voice carrying ample disdain.

The next group from Cluster A arrived, including Alex. Naomi let Gabriel slip from her attention in favor of the friend she had made on the transport. By the time Lt. Kostal and the last students of Cluster A arrived, both of the other clusters had departed down separate corridors. Lt. Kostal led them down a different corridor, which had SECTION A written on the walls in bold green characters. Near the end of the hallway they stopped at a door on their right. A plaque beside the door read:

“Mercy, my dearest.” Her mother smiled faintly and ran her thin, frail hand over Mercedes’ dark hair. “It’s just for a while, just like how we were talking about boarding school. Except your Papa and I are very proud that the International Fleet wants you to go to their school.”

Mercedes could hear the strain in her mother’s voice, and saw the familiar expression of pain flicker across her mother’s fine features. It was always dark in Mummy’s room, and had to be quiet, except for the humming of the pain machine. She saw her mother reach for the button for the machine and snuck out quietly. She knew what was next, and it didn’t really matter if she made noise or not. Mummy’s eyelids would flicker, and she might mumble something that wasn’t English or Spanish or Mandarin, and then she would be asleep for hours.

Mercedes returned to her own room. The apartment was quiet but she could hear the sound of gulls in the distance. The Mediterranean sunlight flooded the chaos of clothes and toys, and one dusty sunbeam struck the little carryall her father had brought home for her to take to the school. It lay flat and empty. He was taking her to the airport tomorrow morning. Fortunately, he had told her, Valencia was large enough to have a transport to the IF Stage 1 center. It would come from Madrid, stop in Valencia, then go on to Barcelona, Marseilles, and Rome, to pick up all of the children from her side of the Mediterranean. Papa had traced Mercedes’ route on the map, and then shown her where Siberia was. It looked so very far, much farther than London or Bath, where she and Mummy used to go for holiday until Mummy got sick.

Slowly she started packing. Papa had said that there would be uniforms, but Mummy had said they were unfashionable, and told Mercedes to bring a few designer pieces, in case there were social events. Mercedes remembered Papa’s look, so sad when Mummy had mentioned that. Mummy used to go to galas almost every week when she was well, but that had been months ago.

It was dusk by the time Papa got home. Mercedes’ carryall was half-full, slouched in the hallway by the door. She had packed her three favorite hair clips, and the clothes Mummy had suggested. She couldn’t think of anything else to pack; Papa had assured her that there would be books and toys at the school, and more children than she had in class now.

Mummy shuffled out of her room at dinnertime, and Papa prayed over the food, then said a special prayer for Mercedes’ trip tomorrow. Mercedes refused to cry. She held her chin just so, as Mummy had taught her, and breathed slow and steady. She even managed to smile bravely at her parents. Mummy looked dazed but smiled back. She looked so beautiful when she smiled, like an angel.

Papa tucked her into bed – for the last time, she realized, when he shut her door. Hot tears leaked down into her hair, and she let them flow unheeded, focused on silently singing herself to sleep to the sound of the sea.

It was an early morning, earlier than any school day. Papa had taken time off so he could take her to the airport personally, instead of calling a taxi. They stopped for coffee on the way, and Mercedes felt very grown up. She sat up straight the whole way, and kept her chin up, but every kilometer was one step closer to the last time she would see Mummy and Papa for a long time.

“It’s not forever.” Papa said, looking at her solemn face and guessing what she was thinking. It used to delight her, how he could figure out what was on her mind even when she was quiet.

“Oh Papa!” she half-sighed, and nudged her carryall with her foot. “It’s such a long time, though. Will Mummy be better when I get home?”

Papa got his sad look again, but smiled at her as they parked and walked into the terminal. There were several other children at the IF shuttle gate, some with two parents, some with whole families. Everyone milled around until a man in a uniform announced that the shuttle was ready.

“We are very proud of you, you know.” His big hand was comfortingly heavy on her shoulder. “You do the best that you can do at school, and your Mummy will get well, and we will see you soon. That’s my girl.” He knelt down to give her a hug.

“I love you, Papa.” Mercedes clung tightly to him for a second, then let go. The uniformed man was saying something, but the babble of voices overcame his.