Cupid's Arrow

PROLOGUE

Dear Calli,

I can’t believe you’re truly gone, before we even had a chance. But doing nothing is not an option for me, not after our connection. I felt it from the moment I laid eyes on you. Remember, in the rendezvous area in Sector One, when you came to escort me to Arcadia? I was standing among the passengers, overwhelmed with the lunar gravity and the overwhelming gravity of my situation—the possibility of leaving Earth to begin a new life in space. Scanning the crowd, I was searching, as ridiculous as it sounds, for a familiar face. Then our eyes met, and the Universe shifted. I knew you would change my life, though I’m heartbroken to think you will never know. This is why I have to write to you, Callisto, because when you stepped through that door today, you left a Calli-sized hole in my heart.

Another woman would record a videojournal, but, as you know, I am a lover of the written word. So, this will be my love letter to you, the story of a Calli-less existence. I only hope that one day this message will find its way to you, as unlikely as that may be.

With love,

Pavani

Saturday, 14 DECEMBER 2097

Arcadia Lunar Colony

I gazed, spellbound, as, one by one, women stood up and made their way to the airlock. After Izumi and Diana, then Tanya and you, sweet Calli, I counted fourteen more women walk out the door and into another life, another world. My feet were twitching and my hand tingled, the hand that had held yours only moments before. I have always been a planner, any major decisions made after careful thought and deliberation. But for this, there was no time to think things through, so I watched as you, the most incredible woman I have ever known, stepped through the doorway to greet your destiny, to embark on an adventure beyond imagination.

Then you were gone, and pandemonium broke out: raised voices, women crying, expressions of bewilderment, anger, sorrow. I sat unmoving in my chair, my heart keeping its steady rhythm, apparently oblivious to the bedlam.

Nalah, whom I had met briefly when I first arrived on the Moon, made her way to the front of the room, moving with purposeful strides, like a lioness. She stood at the podium, looking larger than one might expect given her small frame, lifted her hand to her mouth, index finger and thumb pressed into her lower lip, and whistled. The sharp sound penetrated the air, and everyone fell silent.

“Listen up everybody. I only found out what’s happening a few minutes before the meeting, and am as shocked as the rest of you.” She scanned the crowd, expression grave. “I’ll convene with the Collective later this afternoon to determine how to respond to the imminent invasion, but our top priority is to safeguard Arcadia. I imagine the military officers and soldiers arriving tomorrow will be disappointed to find that their targets have disappeared without a trace, and we don’t know what the repercussions will be, what we will face. The Earth’s World Government military has no jurisdiction here on the Moon, but that doesn’t mean they’ll respect our sovereignty. It’s imperative that we present a united front, to the military and to the entire world.”

There was a low murmur of voices, angry and frustrated.

“We need to agree on how to handle the situation,” Nalah continued, and silence again permeated the amphitheater. “When Izumi and I spoke earlier, she was very clear: she wants everyone to adopt the practice of what she deemed ‘reluctant cooperation’. What she means is that we shouldn’t invite the military into our space, but if they insist, or threaten us with force, we allow them access. Anyone who is questioned, please answer truthfully and with respect, no matter how the soldiers frame their interrogations. Respond, but don’t offer any additional information. Restraint and tranquility—these are our weapons of choice. Also, we’ll be filming every word, every action. Izumi gave me a contact in the BNN media outlet who has agreed to transmit all interactions in real time. We’ll need to set up cameras here in Arcadia, and the Collective will make sure that the metro, shipping and receiving, and all the other sectors have at least minimum surveillance. For us here at Arcadia, this will be our opportunity to demonstrate to the world the ideals the Foundation is based on. I suggest we spend the next twenty-four hours informing ourselves about the accusations levied against Diana and Izumi. Responses to any interrogations should be met with facts. Attempts to bully us or to elicit a reaction should be countered with cool composure. Any questions?”

Several hands shot up at once. Nalah pointed to one woman, who said, “What if they ask where Shambhala went?”

“Answer with the truth: we don’t know. For this reason, Diana and Izumi withheld that information, so that no one here at Arcadia would be placed in an untenable position.”

Another woman asked: “What should we do right now? How can we protect Arcadia?”

“Our main concern, after the safety of everyone here in the lunar colonies, is keeping Annie secure. We don’t want her damaged, but we also wouldn’t want her programming to fall into the hands of any militant organization, and that includes the World Government. She’s the most sophisticated AI in existence, and we can’t risk any individual or agency exploiting her for nefarious purposes. I realize that eventually other teams will develop AIs with Annie’s capacity, but for now, let’s do everything in our power to keep her advanced capabilities a secret. It’s not possible to move the quantum computer hardware, but the doors to the QC chamber can be sealed so that access is restricted, and Annie will need to be powered down. That means Annie will be offline for the foreseeable future, until this ordeal is over.”

“I can help with Annie.”

I turned at the sound of the familiar voice—it was Rika. Who else had stayed behind?

“Meet us in the computer room after the meeting, Rika,” said a woman I didn’t recognize, and Rika nodded in response.

“We have no idea what to expect,” continued Nalah, “so prepare as best you can. This is a time of great uncertainty, but we are all powerful women, and even stronger united. We will get through this.”

Several women nodded their heads, and there was a low hum of voices.

“After my meeting with the Collective, let’s rendezvous here so I can share with all of you what was discussed. Be here at eight p.m. tonight. I should be back by then.”

As women began filing out of the amphitheater, someone touched my arm. I turned to see Naomi looking up at me, her blue-green eyes luminous with tears. “You stayed.”

“Yes.”

Next thing I knew, Naomi was squeezing me tightly, and my heart shattered as I hugged her in return. Her grip on me softened and I released her. She stepped back and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

Someone put a hand on my shoulder. Raven was standing behind me, Jordyn at her side.

“Are we the only ones?” Raven looked around us. “I mean, except for Rika.”

“I think so,” said Naomi.

“It’s just us five, then,” said Jordyn.

“How could this have happened?” I asked, not expecting any reply.

“Calli said something about the news ….” Naomi’s voice trailed off.

“Let’s go to my quarters,” said Jordyn. “I need to know what the hell is going on.”

I followed the three women through the corridors to Jordyn’s cabin, hesitating at the open doorway, taking it all in. Colorful tapestries covered the couch and padded armchairs, fresh-cut flowers from the farm spilled out of a vase on the table, and strings of brightly colored lights cascaded around the queen-sized bed, like a luminous waterfall.

I thought of my own cabin, where I stayed when I last visited the Moon before accepting the research position on the orbital lab. I hadn’t done much more than program the display screen on my wall. But now that this would be my new home, my brain was suddenly filled with decorating ideas. Perhaps I could create a colorful blanket using one of the cloth printers, maybe set up a holophoto or two. I was seizing on trivialities, like a drowning person clutching at straws. Amazing how many random thoughts can pass through a person’s mind in the blink of an eye, especially a mind in a state of total shock.

Jordyn activated her own display screen, and the stunningly beautiful scene of a deep blue lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains faded, to be replaced by the World Government newsfeed. We sat side-by-side on the couch, facing the screen.

This afternoon was the first time I have watched the news since leaving Earth to start my new life on Shambhala. According to the newsfeed, the Foundation is a terrorist organization, and Diana and Izumi are planning to destroy the Earth. The news anchor assured us that the threat is being taken seriously, and, as Izumi told us in the meeting a little over an hour before, the World Court has ordered a battalion of soldiers to the Moon to arrest the two women and annihilate Shambhala. The World Government news is generally the most balanced, unbiased news source of any on the planet. But today, they were as bad as any of the most sensationalist newsfeeds.

“I can’t watch any more of this!” Jordyn stood abruptly, the muscles of her powerful, athletic body tense, her rich brown skin flushed with anxiety. She touched the screen with her hand, and the serene landscape reappeared. “Has the whole world gone mad?”

“There’s more to this,” said Naomi. “Something deeper, more sinister.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I myself don’t know what I mean,” she said. “It feels like my brain can’t handle the information.”

“We’re all a little freaked out,” said Jordyn, throwing herself back on the couch.

“It’s a lot to take in all at once.” Raven’s pale, angular face was drawn and haggard.

We sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I was having the same problem as Naomi—nothing was making sense. Finally, I stood up. “I’m going to my cabin. I need a little time to myself.”

“I understand,” said Naomi, studying my face. “But let’s meet for dinner at six, alright?”

I couldn’t even imagine being around food, but I nodded in agreement.

Slowly I made my way back to my quarters and sat on my own couch, staring at the wall display, programmed to show Antelope Canyon, one of my favorite places in my homeland, New Arizona. But now, the 3D image of the magnificent sandstone slot canyon, a spectrum of vibrant, earthy reds, brought me no peace.

I touched behind my right ear. “Annie?”

“Yes, Pavani?”

“Can you contact Shambhala?”

“Of course, Pavani. Please keep in mind I will be taken offline in approximately thirty minutes, so your conversation must conclude within that time frame. With whom would you like to speak?”

“Never mind.” I shook my head and broke the connection. What could I possibly say? We had made our choices. But still, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, Calli. That’s when I decided to write to you, write this letter. I will tell you everything, everything that happens here, in your lunar home. And maybe one day, with a little luck, you will read it.

***

Later, after finishing the previous pages, I called my mother. We talk every Sunday without fail, so had just spoken yesterday. I had already told her about you, Calli. And now I had to tell her you were gone. She answered on the first chime.

“Hi,” I said, looking directly at her holographic image.

One look at my face, and she knew that something had happened. My mother never watches the news, and in fact, avoids it. So, she couldn’t have known what was happening with the Foundation. “Tell me,” she said, then waited while I gathered my thoughts.

She’s like me, deliberate and thoughtful. Or perhaps it is I who is like her? After a minute or two of silence, I said, “There is trouble with the Foundation. I’m back on the Moon, and Shambhala is leaving today, traveling to an unknown galaxy. I stayed behind.”

“I see.”

“Calli, the one I told you about, she’s on Shambhala.”

“And you will stay here, in the solar system of your birth.”

“Yes.”

“And the trouble?”

“A military incursion. The troops arrive tomorrow.”

My mother nodded again, face riddled with worry. Although it has been five and a half centuries since the Europeans first invaded Hopi land, the experiences are still fresh in our collective memory—our arid land soaked with the tears of every abducted child, forced to learn the colonial ways and renounce their heritage, the sacred ground of our ancestors stippled with the blood of battles lost, battles won. But in the end, there are no winners in battle, only destruction and suffering. My mother understood instinctually, viscerally. “Are you in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you come home?” Her words caught in her throat. “Can you come home now?”

“Let me check.” I pulled up the Terra-Luna Express schedule, obscuring my mother’s anxious expression, then closed the app. “No. The next transport is two weeks from now.”

“I understand.” She took a deep breath. “How will you protect yourselves, protect your way of life?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Your community is powerful, united. Stay true to your beliefs, your culture, as we have always done, and you will prevail.” She peered at me. “And tell me, my daughter, how is your heart?”

“It hurts.”

“I am not sorry for your pain, because sorrow is a consequence of love, and there is nothing more beautiful in this Universe than love. Though you have my deepest empathy.”

We talked of other things, the garden, the mice who were getting into the stored corn, my uncle, my grandmother. My mother was trying to ground me with her talk of the mundane, to remind me of my connection to her and to my people, and listening to her, my body started to relax, the tension ebbing away. But when we ended the conversation, my anguish came rushing back like a rogue wave. I am not a religious woman; I can assure you of that. But often, in moments of deep distress, the teachings of my childhood appear unbidden in my heart, and I find myself praying to the great mystery of the Universe. This was one of those times. I prayed that you and the rest of the Shambhala crew would make it to your destination safely, ready to face the unimaginable challenges of creating a new world.

***

Naomi and I met in the dining room at six. We sat at an empty table, plates of food in front of us.

“How are you holding up, Pavani?”

Biting my lower lip, I said, “I almost called Calli.”

“Me, too. But I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I know her. It wouldn’t be easy at all for her if we spoke. She understands why I chose to stay behind.”

“Simon?”

“I could never leave him.” She moved the food on her plate around with her fork. “Why didn’t you call her?”

“I don’t know.”

Naomi reached across the table and took my hand in hers.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” I asked.

“You mean staying back?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I don’t know what to tell you. Our lives are full of decisions, some carefully considered, a few split-second, and they all shape our futures, often in completely unexpected ways. We simply do our best, and what follows is the consequences.”

“I’m going to write Calli a letter, tell her everything.” I looked toward the far wall, though my eyes were unfocused. “More like a chronicle, telling about what’s happening here, our conversations.” I turned to Naomi. “I already started this afternoon in my quarters.”

“What a lovely idea.”

“I can’t accept that she’s gone forever.”

Naomi began to cry, silent tears tracing glimmering lines down her dark brown cheeks. I got up and moved to her side of the table, sitting beside her, holding her in my arms. “I’m so sorry, Naomi. She’s your best friend. The loss must be devastating for you.”

“It’s not only her,” said Naomi. “Shambhala was my home, the crew, all of them, my family.” Naomi cried harder, her small body shaking, and my heart split asunder.

When Naomi’s tears were finally spent, we tried to eat, but only succeeded in rearranging our food into different piles. Eventually, I gave up and shoved my plate away, just as Jordyn walked up.

“Hey,” she said softly, taking the empty seat in front of us.

“Oh, hello, Jordyn,” said Naomi, her voice subdued.

“I was with Jesse. J says that everyone in the University Sector is in shock.”

“We all are,” I said.

“Will you get something to eat?” Naomi asked.

Jordyn glanced at our virtually uneaten plates of food. “I don’t think so, not today. I guess I’ll go to my cabin. See you both at the meeting.”

***

At seven-thirty, Naomi and I entered Delphi Park. We walked over to the amphitheater and sat in the first row, directly in front of the stage. Slowly, the other women of Arcadia filtered in, filling up the seats. At eight on the dot, Nalah made her way to the podium, brushing back her mane of tightly curled black hair, sienna skin glowing in the soft light. All eyes were on her.

“Thanks, everyone, for being here. I just came from my meeting. The Collective may not completely agree with our philosophy here at Arcadia, but they are fighting mad the World Government is sending troops to the Moon, and they’re rallying to protect their own. The military will not be welcomed with open arms, of that you can be sure. Every member of the Collective is behind us one hundred percent.”

She paused, looking out at us, then continued. “But they, or I should say, all of us, are in a tough situation. We don’t want to risk openly defying the World Government. Okay, a few of the board members want nothing more than to do so, but the lunar colony has no defenses. There’s never been any need. So, we’re vulnerable to the caprice of the military. I’m sure I don’t have to tell any of you who knows her history that this is absolutely unprecedented. It’s the first time troops have been sent to the Moon. I don’t know what happened back on Earth, how we became such a target, but there are some powerful forces at work to convince the World Court to take such drastic and unilateral action, mandating troops here.”

“But it’s all based on lies,” a woman sitting a few rows away from me said.

Nalah nodded. “That’s the part which is the most difficult to understand.”

“It’s personal.”

I looked over to see Sasha standing just behind the back row.

“What do you mean?” asked Nalah.

Sasha shifted her weight from one foot to the other and brushed her mostly grey hair from her eyes, looking acutely uncomfortable, as if she hadn’t intended to speak aloud.

“Look, it’s not my place to say, and I don’t know anything for sure, just some half-baked conjectures. It’s probably better to wait for Izumi’s mother, Akari, to get here. She might know more.”

“Conjectures are more than I have,” said Nalah, looking intently at Sasha. “Izumi and Diana didn’t tell me much more than what they shared at the meeting, and aside from the avalanche of lies on the newsfeeds, I have nothing. So, if you have any information you can add ….”

Sasha shook her head.

Naomi leaned over to whisper in my ear. “She knows something. Let’s speak to her later.”

Nalah shifted her gaze away from Sasha. “The Collective’s long-range tracking system is following the progress of the military vessel, which is projected to arrive in lunar space tomorrow afternoon at four p.m. The supposition is that they will land their craft on the Moon’s surface, rather than go through Tako Orbital Station, and connect their ship to the external airlock in Sector One.”

“When will Akari be here?” asked Sook. Her normally open face was creased with anxiety, thick dark eyebrows knitted together. What will she do now that there will be no more shuttle trips to and from Shambhala? A pilot with nowhere to go.

“I spoke with her briefly before the meeting with the Collective,” said Nalah. “She needs to get her affairs in order before coming and said we can expect her in a month. Now let’s talk about strategies. The Collective has recently implemented a new, rather exigent protocol for visitors to the colony.” Nalah smiled for the first time. “In fact, the protocols were put in place just this evening, and will take effect tomorrow afternoon.”

I leaned forward in my seat.

“Every visitor will need to go through a rigorous decontamination procedure before entering the lunar colony. This is going to be a very time-consuming process …” Nalah’s smile widened, her cheeks dimpling, “and unfortunately there is also a danger of damage to any electromagnetic devices.”

Naomi grabbed my arm and I looked at her. “The military uses electromagnetic weaponry, EMWs,” she whispered, eyes gleaming. “This is brilliant!”

“Any visitor will be strongly advised to allow their electronic devices to go through a separate screening process. However, since the scanner system is so new, we can’t be sure if there will be any permanent damage to these apparatuses.”

A few women laughed out loud.

“How many soldiers are we talking about?” someone asked.

“Sources on Earth say that there are at most thirty-five.”

“That’s not so bad,” said another woman.

“Yes,” said Nalah, “but understand that we’ll be walking a fine line. Their ship is definitely capable of destruction. After all, their mission is to completely destroy an entire space station.”

Any traces of smiles disappeared.

“That’s why we can’t openly challenge them—the risk is too high—but we can make their lives here unpleasant.”

“What do you think will happen when they discover that Shambhala is gone, along with Diana and Izumi?” asked Naomi.

“I’ve got no idea what the reaction will be, though I imagine they already know the orbital lab has absconded. Shambhala left our space nearly two hours ago.”

Her words were an icy cold dagger piercing my heart. I heard Naomi’s sharp intake of breath, and she squeezed my arm so tightly it hurt. Removing my arm from her iron grip, I put it around her shoulders, pulling her to me.

“But they have no way of knowing whether or not Izumi and Diana were on the ship,” continued Nalah, “so we must assume they will continue with their objective to apprehend them. The Collective expects the military to conduct a thorough search of each of the colony’s sectors. Since, as we all know, the women aren’t here, the hunt might go on for a long time.”

“It will basically be a military occupation,” said Sasha from her usual post at the back of the amphitheater.

“Essentially, yes,” said Nalah. “But with a little creativity, we hope to weaken their power. Nevertheless, like I said, we have to be very careful. They have their ship’s armaments, though it’s unthinkable that they would attack the lunar colony directly. Although as of a few days ago, it was unthinkable that the World Government would send the military to the Moon.” Her mouth twisted in an uneasy smirk. “And they also have plenty more resources at their disposal. They can always bring more troops. Thirty-five soldiers are a lot, but manageable, in my opinion, especially if we are successful in deactivating their handheld weapons, but imagine if there was a tenfold increase of that number?” She shook her head, lips pursed. “So, let’s try to stick with Izumi’s plan of reluctant cooperation. The Collective is in agreement on that front. They say we should push it as far as we can, without overtly resisting. The tactics are delay whenever possible, and answer only what is asked, agreed?”

There were murmurs of ascent.

“Unless there are any more questions, that’s it for now.” She scanned our faces. The room was silent. “Okay, try to get some rest, everyone.”

As women stood, talking softly, I released Naomi. She sat up straight and looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness. “They’re really gone, aren’t they?”

Then Rika, Raven, and Jordyn were beside us.

“How are you two doing?” asked Rika, her usually ruddy complexion ghostly pale.

Naomi shrugged. “I’m still in disbelief.”

“Come on,” said Jordyn. “Let’s go to my quarters again. We need to be together right now, the Shambhala crew, what’s left of us, anyway.”

***