Dove Arising by Karen Bao Read Free Book Online

known as the Lunar Forces (I wonder if the physics pun was intended). The need to unite hardly ever arises; Militias individually ward off stray attacks from Earthbound cities, collect intelligence, and police the citizenry.
    The last time the Forces acted together was thirty years ago, when the Earthbound superpowers attacked Base I, resulting in the Battle of Peary.
    That was when the then-Committee instituted a temporary “emergency rule” that has lasted to this day. They say they’re too busy to schedule elections.
    Both my parents fought in the Battle of Peary, driving off the Earthbound for good. Mom rarely speaks of the experience, except to whisper, “What a pity,” when she thinks her children aren’t listening.
    Umbriel and I wander out of Defense and into one of the wider pedestrian hallways. Everyone keeps to their right, so traffic is smooth.
    “Don’t do this,” Umbriel repeats for the forty-third time this week. He’s agitated, so he strides quickly. I have to jog to keep up. “It’s not too late to drop out. Cygnus checked the reward money for each Militia rank: you’d have to get seventh or higher to make over fifteen hundred Sputniks in prize money. And that would only cover your mom’s treatment. While we’re waiting for that, four hundred a month in stipends won’t even cover your rent.”
    We reach the entrance to the Education Department, and I drag Umbriel inside. Sensing our body heat, the automatic portal opens upward for us. As soon as it closes, I grab his wrists. They’re so big in my hands.
    “Umbriel, stop.”
    “Stop what?” He tickles my palm, but I’m in no mood to laugh.
    “Stop talking. I’ll make the top seven.”
    “But you’re younger, and smaller, and, er, weaker—”
    I tap my right temple with a forefinger.
    Most people in our three-hundred-member Primary Level Nine class only know my name because Ariel or I finish first in nearly every subject. Electromagnetism, Human Biology, Calculus, Language Composition . . . Lunar History is one of my two weak areas. It consists of tedious retellings of scientific developments, and Earth Studies is no better—dull scrutiny of the unfortunate beings we left in chaos a century ago.
    Because the Earthbound are so disorganized compared to us, that last subject is a particular pain. Earth has too many micro-civilizations to count, each with different languages, governments, and parts-per-million toxicity readings. Although the wild ecology of the planet fascinates me—how does life relate to other life without human interference?—I couldn’t care less about the people. They can’t keep track of themselves; logically, I can’t either. Small wonder Ariel, whose frontal lobe processes the feelings and motivations of countless individuals with ease, always beats me at Earth Studies.
    The entryway of Education is dark—it’s late, 22:00. To maintain our bodies’ circadian rhythms during the 352-hour lunar diurnal cycle, all public Departments and main hallways have their lights turned off for ten hours a day to mimic nighttime.
    “Look up.” Umbriel’s arm presses me to his side.
    Through the small circular window above, I glimpse hints of constellations. Gemini, the twins, glows especially bright. Unwelcome emotion bubbles from my chest up into my throat. I try to withdraw to a thoughtless space inside my head, as Mom once tried to teach me, and ignore this bodily contact and my unwelcome future in Militia.
    “I won’t see you tomorrow, because I have late hours at the greenhouse. And your day off isn’t for another month.” He steps away, shoves his left hand into his roomy pants pocket, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “So . . . here goes.”
    Umbriel pulls a short stalk of something green and red from his pocket. It’s a rose, one of the most expensive plants in the greenhouses because it serves no other purpose than decoration. He must have used all his tricks to smuggle it out.
    I don’t