Chapter 3 | Athena Hailway

  Two hours.

  It’s been two hours since I saw that man kill that alien. Two hours, and I still don’t have any answers. Two hours, and I haven’t had the guts to tell anyone else what I saw.

  The streets of the Center Colony are quiet in the dark evening, illuminated by the soft white glow of overhead streetlights. The city is always pristine, too pristine. It’s like someone is constantly sweeping away the messes left by the rich before anyone can see them. The only sound I hear is the steady rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement, a faint echo bouncing off the towering government buildings that line the streets.

  My thoughts churn like the waves outside the walls. There should have been more of a reaction, shouldn’t there? A dead alien in the middle of the Observation Chamber, and yet, by the time I was sent home, it had already faded into the background like any other piece of classified intel. Just another note in the system. Observed. Logged. Forgotten. Exactly as we were taught.

  I reach my front door, its dark wood worn smooth from years of use. The familiar creak of the hinges feels louder in the still night. Before I can take another step inside, a blur of fur barrels into my legs.

  “Ollie,” I mutter with a smile, rubbing my dog’s head as he wags his tail excitedly. At least someone is happy to see me.

  I maneuver carefully around stacks of my father’s books, scattered haphazardly across the entryway in uneven piles. They weren’t here a week ago—he must have moved them from his office. I glance at a few titles. Ballistics and Modern Warfare. The Ethics of Defense. Thick, dense technical manuals filled with knowledge I don’t quite understand.

  I know my dad designs weapons. I know he works for the government. What I don’t know is where those weapons end up. The military supposedly operates outside the walls, protecting the colonies from unseen dangers, but I’ve never seen proof of that. No public deployments. No major conflicts. No enemy reports. Maybe the other half of the population needs them on Mars.

  I’ve always told myself it’s better not to ask. Better to accept that some things are above me. But after today, I don’t think I can ignore it anymore.

  As I walk past my dad’s office, I catch a glimpse of him hunched over his desk, papers and blueprints scattered across the surface. The dim desk lamp casts long shadows across his face, highlighting the deep creases in his brow.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say, leaning against the doorway.

  He doesn’t look up. Instead, he lifts a single finger—his usual ‘one second, I’m busy’ gesture.

  I cross my arms, exhaling sharply. It’s exactly what I expected. It’s what happens every day.

  After a moment, he finally looks at me. “How was your day, Athena?”

  His voice is practically monotone, like is emotions are detached from his mouth. My dad has always spoken like a man who values efficiency above all else. Conversations with him feel more like data collection than actual dialogue.

  “It was fine, but…” I hesitate. Would he even care? “The criminal we were observing today-”

  He cuts me off. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. How did the investigation go? Was he an alien?”

  I clench my jaw and exhale slowly, willing myself to stay calm. I hate when people interrupt me. “Yeah, he was an alien. But that’s not the point. He was killed.”

  Dad sits up straighter. “Killed? Are you alright?”

  “Dad, I’m fine. But someone got into the Observation Chamber and killed him.”

  “Why isn’t this on the news?” He’s already pulling out his phone, scrolling through headlines without waiting for an answer. After a few seconds, he sets it down, shaking his head. “That’s bizarre.”

  “It’s not on the news because, to my knowledge, I’m the only one who saw it.”

  His expression hardens. “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone else’s screens… froze. It was like the killer wanted everyone to miss it. Except me.”

  A long silence stretches between us. My dad’s face is unreadable, but I can feel the gears turning in his head.

  “So, you just… watched him kill the alien?” His voice is edged with something I can’t quite place. “Why didn’t you say or do anything?”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out. Why didn’t I? It’s what I’ve been trained for. It’s what I should have done. It’s the right move.

  But I didn’t. And now, the only person I’ve told is my father.

  “I think…” My voice falters. “I think I was afraid.”

  His expression darkens. “Athena, fear isn’t an option in a military setting.”

  His tone strikes a nerve.

  I narrow my eyes. “Is that what you tell yourself?” My voice is colder than I mean it to be, but I don’t stop. “You sit behind a desk all day making bombs, and you have the nerve to tell me not to be afraid when I see something that I’ve been told ‘can’t happen,’ happen? Right in front of me?”

  His lips press into a thin line. “Athena, you have no idea how much of this I do for you.”

  “And those bombs?” I press. “Do you ever stop to think about where they go? Who they’re used on?”

  He exhales sharply, but there’s something different in his expression now. A flicker of something. Is it regret? Or guilt?

  “Yes,” he says finally. “I think about it all the time. And yes, I’m scared to see how they’re used. I’m scared all the time. But I tell myself that I can’t be.”

  “Well, I was. I was afraid.”

  For a brief moment, he looks at me. He really looks at me. Then he stands up and grabs his coat.

  “I have to meet some people for dinner,” he says, already walking past me. “I won’t be home until late.”

  He doesn’t wait for a response. Doesn’t try to smooth things over. Just keeps walking.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I don’t give him the satisfaction of replying. I just turn and walk into my room, dropping my schoolwork onto my desk. My mind is already drifting away from the alien, from the man who killed him, from the silence of the Observation Chamber.

  I hope that feeling stays.