Once again, Mallory was having nightmares.

She woke with a start. She tried to keep still, so she wouldn't trigger the sensors around her bunk.

It was the middle of the night. The other children were still asleep.

Mallory's bunk was in the center of the room. Just like her place in line, and her place for daily attendance, and everything else. Of all 26 children in her group, Mallory was always dead center.

Mallory begins with the thirteenth letter of the alphabet, the exact middle. And she hated it. She hated being in the middle.

Every day was the same. Every second was planned. No one disobeyed orders, either direct or indirect.

Mallory was a part of group 17A, which meant she was one of the oldest on the spacecraft. The number of the group was her age. The letter was which half of the year she was born in.

The simulated sun began to rise on the screens mounted on the walls. In exactly two minutes, everyone would wake at the same time and get ready for the morning meal.

Mallory lay still, pretending the dream never happened. It couldn't have happened. Dreams were not allowed. They were thought to be impossible.

The higher-ups in the craft would make sure she disappeared and was replaced. There was talk of it happening before, but no one was really sure. How could you be?

All at once, the 17A hall was filled with life... or at least as close to life as it could get. Half-awake teenagers walked into the washrooms. They walked back out again to stand in line for the daily morning attendance.

This is pointless, Mallory thought. Where would anyone go? We know we can't leave.

This thought hurt Mallory, simply because it was the truth.

She was old enough to remember Earth. Everyone below the 12B group had begun their lives on board the huge spacecraft.

To Mallory, the craft was basically a hotel.

Groups 13A to 17B were in the center. Each wing had an adult residence hall, children's residence hall, and a workspace or cafeteria. That was it. That's why they were there.

They worked until they reached an age where they couldn't work anymore. Then they disappeared.

The dark abyss of space took them. It took their old bodies and wouldn't show them light or happiness ever again.

Happiness was nearly impossible to find, anyway.

Groups 17A and 17B were allowed to socialize during meal times. Mallory was thankful for this. It was one of the only chances she had to see her only friend, Zayda.

Unlike Mallory, who was always in the middle, Zayda was always last. With her unfortunate Z name and her placement in 17B group, she was the youngest of the 17-year-olds. And she liked it that way. Zayda liked rules. She liked being last.

"It's less pressure," she would say to Mallory.

And it was less pressure. The onboard community was built on rules meant for those who were older. They had to do everything perfectly and set good examples while working.

Attendance finally ended. It was time to report for the morning meal.

Mallory found Zayda at their usual table. It was farther away from the others. It was near one of the few real windows on the craft. The rest were simulated. They faked movement just like they faked the sunrises.

Mallory took her pre-filled tray from the counter and headed toward her friend.

As she sat down, she said, "It happened again."

Zayda quickly looked around the room to make sure no one else had heard Mallory's words.

"Another dream?" Zayda asked. "Was it about Earth again?"

"Yes," Mallory said. "But this one was different. There was this feeling of urgency, but I don't know what for."

Zayda sank down a bit in her chair.

As far as the people on the craft knew, Earth was in ruins. That's why they left. There were updates on the status of the planet. They were never good.

But, like everything else on the craft, the information could be fake. To ask about it would be the last thing you would ever do. So if anyone was suspicious, they kept it to themselves.

"Zay, you need to help me out," Mallory said. "You have access to the craft's records. You're the only one who can know for sure if we'll ever go back home."

"I can't take that risk, Mallory," Zayda shot back. "I was given a job in records because I could be trusted! You know what would happen if I betrayed that trust?"

Mallory nodded. "Yeah, I know. Nothing good. I just need closure. I can't stay here for the rest of my life. I need to go home," she said.

"This is your home," Zayda said.

"No. Not even close," Mallory said. "You remember Earth. You should understand. You should at least try to help your only friend."

Zayda stood up quickly. "I've finished morning meal. I'm going to work," she said. "You should, too. And you should do it without getting yourself into trouble you can't get out of."

Mallory was shocked at the way Zayda had spoken to her. Zayda was usually so calm. This new work assignment had given her a new sense of authority, and rightly so. Zayda could defend herself now.

Mallory tried to brush off the conversation and get ready for work. Mallory worked in the linguistics department. That meant she spent all day looking at books, essays, and ancient writings.

Basically, she was the one who preserved language on the craft. She made lesson plans based on language for the younger groups.

Today's workload was about names. She had the responsibility of choosing names for each group of children on the craft.

Mallory sat in her plain cubicle after clocking in. She went straight to work. She took pride in this part of her job. Names were important in her society.

She chose names with meaning. Her bosses didn't know that. If they did, they might question her for suspicious and rebellious behavior.

Just like they would for anything even slightly out of the norm.

It wasn't long before Mallory came across her own name in one of her books. It was of French origin. It meant "ill-fated, unfortunate."

Of course it does, she thought.

She turned to the end of one of her books, looking for Zayda's name. It was Hebrew, meaning "beautiful princess."

Frustrated, Mallory closed the book. Zayda seemed to get everything good. Even down to the meaning of her name.

Just then, alarms sounded. A voice was heard over the intercom. It said all residents should return to their residence halls immediately.

This had never happened before. People were rushing around, terrified.

The walk back to the 17A hall was fast, even faster with everyone running. When Mallory made it to her bunk, rumors had already begun to spread.

The craft was under attack, there was a gas leak, a window had blown open. That sort of thing. Nothing was based in truth. Not yet, anyway.

Lights out was supposed to happen after a daily newscast and the simulated sunset. Not that night. The groups were told to sleep as soon as attendance was taken.

They're trying to keep us from finding anything out, Mallory thought.

Without thinking, she emptied her drawer and piled all her clothes under the covers of her bunk. She hoped it would trick the sensors.

She sneaked out of the 17A residence hallway toward 17B. Before she even entered the hall, she was met by a worried Zayda.

"Mal, I broke the rules. I snuck out of my bunk and I was looking through old records at work and—" Zayda paused. "Wait, why are you out here?"

"Same reason you are. I want to know what's going on," Mallory said.

"Okay. I'll explain on the way to records. Keep an eye out for the cameras. They don't stop surveillance at night," Zayda said.

Mallory was surprised by Zayda's plan.

This can't be the Zay I know, she thought.

The girls made their way quickly and quietly toward the workplace wing. It was completely empty, which wasn't unusual. But in their current situation, it was a little creepy.

Zayda punched in the code to the records door. They closed it quickly behind them.

"Stop," Mallory said. "I need to know what's going on. Why are the wings empty? Why is everyone freaking out? What do you know?"

"Not now," Zayda said quickly. "I need to find—"

"Yes, now! What is happening here?" Mallory asked.

"Look, I'm not sure either, okay?" Zayda said. "I was going through old files today and I found a problem."

Mallory looked at her. She felt confused and frightened.

"What kind of problem?" she asked.

"That's just it," Zayda explained. "The problem is that our onboard records say Earth is fine. There's no trace of radiation, no increases or decreases in air pressure. And get this: there's people there."

Zayda shook her head. "I mean, I knew they didn't fit the whole planet onto a bunch of spacecrafts like ours. But I just assumed that whatever disaster we were escaping killed everyone that was left behind," she said.

"Then why am I having nightmares about Earth if there's nothing wrong with it?" Mallory asked.

"That's why I came to find you," Zayda said. "They know. The higher-ups in the crew know about your nightmares. I don't know how, but they do."

Mallory's stomach felt sick.

"They were coming to get you tonight," Zayda went on. "They thought you would find out and run. That's why they set off the alarms. They're afraid of you."