Lillian was sitting on the porch roof, rereading one of her favorite books under the light of the stars. The faint light from her bedroom was enough to see the pages as she kept turning. Although nowadays you could read any number of books on your computers or augmented displays, Lillian liked the feel of a real book.
Hah...
She'd inherited most of her mother's old books and kept them carefully organized in her room. No matter what it was, if Lillian considered it hers, she would keep it neat. Her room, her locker at school, her desk--everything kept neat and orderly.
Her teachers complained about it from time to time, although they really didn't mind. With more troubled students every year, Lillian was a breath of fresh air.
This last sentence doesn't make sense as written. Her teachers are complaining about her being neat? It would make more sense if she went around 'neatening' other people's belongings, but that contradicts the first part of this. On the whole, it seems that this sentence doesn't do anything other than point out how Lillian is better than the other kids in her school without having any rationale to back it up.
She had just started one of the more interesting parts of the book when her father burst into her room. He'd only gotten back a few hours ago from some mission or another. He'd been busier than ever as of late.
"Lily dear, pack your things. We need to leave."
"Can I finish my chapter?"
"No time. Pack enough for a weekend and meet me in the front hall." Looking distracted, he headed back out into the hallway.
This bit's good, a nice balance of description and dialogue. Enough stray thoughts and observations to show that Lillian is a person rather than a talking robot, but not so many that we imagine her sitting staring at her father for ten minutes while she mentally describes the clothes he's wearing.
Lillian sighed. "And it was just getting so interesting too," she muttered under her breath. But she could sense easily enough that something was not quite right, so she crawled back into her room and began to pack.
This, not so good. The muttering-under-her-breath thing is more a pet peeve of mine than an actual problem, but the mysterious super sense ability is not a good reason for anything. The same goes for the 'feeling' in the next bit. If you need some way to have her pack for more than a weekend despite what her father said, do something like 'even though her father had told her to pack for only a weekend, she could hardly bear the thought of leaving her [foreshadowing of a plot relevant object] behind, and of course if she brought that she'd need her [red herring to deflect suspicion], and by the time she'd finished packing her bag was bursting at the seams.' Or don't, even. Kids always pack more than they'll need (note: my experience of kids packing comes exclusively from me and my brother), and you've established that she likes to read so her bringing a lot of books isn't that unusual.
If the only reason for this feeling was to make her be more special, then get rid of it. She can be special later, once her actions have earned her the right to it.
Despite her father's insistence, she had a feeling that this might be a longer trip, so she packed several of her mother's books in addition to her clothes. Her bag was quite nearly bursting at the seems, but she still managed to close it. She made sure to place the book she'd been reading carefully into the front pocket.
She had just finished when she heard a sharp rap the front door. "Just a second," she could hear her father rummaging about in upstairs. A pause and then the rapping came again, harder.
I'll get it, Lillian thought to herself. She knew that she wasn't supposed to answer the door for strangers, but it almost sounded as if whoever was at the door would knock it down any moment with how insistent they sounded.
This whole section, sans the 'feeling' mentioned above, is pretty good. The little details, her father making noise upstairs and the front pocket of the bag, and Lillian's believable behavior for a young child (I'm not
supposed to open the door, but my dad's busy... and they're knocking
really loud...) are both nice.
Standing at the door was a pair of men, both dressed in impeccable black suits and dark sunglasses, despite the early evening hour. The taller of the two glanced down at Lillian. He smiled slightly, removed his sunglasses, and bent down to talk to her. "Hello there young lady. Could you get your father for us?"
"He's busy. I'm sure he'll be down just as soon as he can."
The shorter man smirked and started to reach for something under his jacket, but was stopped by a touch from his partner.
"Not now. We still have time."
"Not much." Lillian couldn't help but notice the wobble in the shorter man's voice as he spoke. He was putting up a good show, but something was bothering him badly.
I liked this up until the end there. Someone who 'smirks' is not a worried person, unless they're noted as pale and trembling and speaking with a stutter while they do it. Now one out of three isn't bad, but it's also not enough when the two details are multiple sentences apart. Also, I wouldn't expect Lillian to pick up on this, based on her apparent age, especially since you didn't make a point of her being particularly observant elsewhere in the story. If you need it to be apparent that the shorter man is worried, then look at what I say later about the mechanic, but it seems to me that there isn't really much point to this.
Also, 'impeccable' in the mind of a little girl sounds a bit odd, but that's more of a personal thing.
For a moment no one spoke. It was an uncomfortable silence and both the men and Lillian felt it. The taller man stood there calmly, barely moving but his partner pulled out a cigarette and started to light it with shaking hands.
"You can't smoke here," Lillian cried.
The shaking hands thing isn't as bad as the voice thing, since it's more likely for her to notice shaking hands than a shaking voice, and the short man's guard is probably lowered a bit. The 'cried' stands out here, and either makes Lillian seem unduly worried about the smoke or else makes it look like you're going to far too much effort to not use the word 'said'. You might say she 'said hesitantly, wondering now if she should have answered the door after all' or something like that if you want it to be more interesting.
The man looked down at her and shook his head slightly. The smirk was back. "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?"
She was spared having to answer by her father coming up behind her. He put a hand on Lillian's shoulder and stared hard at the man with the cigarette. To Lillian's surprise, the man put it down--he hadn't even managed to get it lit. She looked up at her father and saw a dangerous light in his eyes. Yet as he looked down at her, they softened into the warm eyes she'd known all her life. "Are you all packed sweetheart?"
Another small gripe. I would guess that Lillian has not at this point seen her father in a 'dangerous' mood before.
"Yes Daddy."
"Then why don't you go get your bag and follow Mr..."
"Smith," the taller agent replied.
"Of course," her father muttered so low that even Lillian could barely hear. He seemed to be chuckling to himself about something. Raising his voice, he continued, "Mr. Smith here out to his car. I'll be along shortly."
I like most of the father's interactions with the two men, but I'm not sure about this chuckling. He mostly seems slightly wary of them, which makes a nice contrast to Lillian who seems to trust Smith, mostly because he's nicer than the short guy. But his chuckling here makes it seem like he finds their subterfuge funny (Oh, look at those government agents, and their little secret identities! Ha ha ha!).
Lillian hesitated, but only for a second. At least Mr. Smith seemed nicer than the short man. Her bag was already lying just inside her door, so it didn't take long for her to grab it and return. When she got back, she saw that her father had also packed a small backpack and was carrying a shiny silver briefcase carefully against his side.
I think I mentioned the difference in Lillian's and her father's interactions with the two men. While her father obviously knows something about what's going on, and is appropriately mistrustful, Lillian just sees two weird grown ups, with one of them mean and the other one nice, or at least less mean than the other one. I like this.
Also, since it seems to be important, you might want to add an extra bit about the briefcase, like 'Lillian couldn't remember having ever seen it before' or something to make it more obvious why she would ask about it. Just don't overdo it.
"What's that?" Lillian asked.
He looked at the two men in the doorway for a moment before answering, then back at Lillian. "A long story, one full of ..." Lillian's father started but he was interrupted mid-word by the short man, "time to go."
This is a bit awkward. Father seems to be suddenly jumping into exposition mode, and while he's quickly cut off by the short man (which I do think is a nice touch, emphasizing the good MIB/ bad MIB dynamic the men have). I'm not sure what the best way to fix this would be though.
With his hand back on Lillian's shoulder--she could feel him trembling slightly as well, what in the world is going on?--her father led her out to the old style, almost antique black car sitting on the street. Mr. Smith held the door for her, and Lillian couldn't help but giggle.
"It's like having a chauffeur," she smiled, turning to her father.
"Exactly," her father replied, although without a smile of his own. He took her bag and helping her into the back seat. He handed her bag along with his own to Mr. Smith and slid into the seat next to Lillian. He kept the suitcase with him, sliding it under his feet as he settled himself into his seat.
This bit has good points and bad points. Lillian is behaving nicely, and the two men are playing up their act again, but father's still a bit off. Based on how he's been acting so far I'd expect him to either be distracted ("Sure, dear," he said, staring distractedly out the window) or else reassuring like he's been so far ("Exactly," her father replied, giving a brief smile of his own.) rather than blunt.
She could hear Mr. Smith as he walked around to the back of the car and put their bags in the trunk and then again as he walked around to the driver's seat. She could hear him, but couldn't see more than shadows through the heavily tinted windows and the deepening twilight. The shorter man, she couldn't see at all--there was a divider between the back seats and the front.
Just a minor thing, the details about twilight and shadows are teetering on the edge of overdoing the description, especially compared to how you've described things so far.
"Daddy, what's happening?"
"Not right now. I'll explain in a little while. Why don't you see if you can get some sleep? It's going to be a long ride."
"But Daddy, it's barely even getting dark." She considered, "could I read some more of my book?" She'd snuck it out of her backpack before handing it over.
It would probably be a good idea to go back and add the bit about her sneaking the book out of her bag earlier. Here, it looks a bit like you're writing by the seat of your pants.
His eyes seemed to light up, seeing his wife's old books in his daughter's hands. So many her age nowadays didn't even bother to read--they just watched vids all day long. "Sure honey. But not too long. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a long day."
This is dangerously close to being all about how special Lillian is, but its sufficiently justified by the context that it's probably fine. Just don't do it too often.
What felt like only a few minutes after she'd gone to bed, Lillian awoke. She'd fallen asleep with her head in her father's lap--he was asleep too.
Carefully, she picked up her head and looked out the window. It was pitch black now but for the moon barely peeking above the horizon. She couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour or two. There was barely enough light to see the ground outside whirring by. They appeared to be driving through the scrub east of the city. There was no grass, but there were shrubs everywhere, brown from the lack of rain.
Some minor logistical quibbles here. You mentioned earlier that the windows to the car were sufficiently tinted that she could only see shadows through them, which doesn't mesh with her noticing grass and shrubs. Also the second and third sentences don't work well together. It would make more sense if you said something like 'it was pitch black now, but the moon had only just started to rise, so she couldn't have been...' That might be more just me though.
What could we be doing out here, Lillian thought, there's really nothing important for hundreds of miles inland. Up ahead though, she could see brilliant lights along the road, lighting up the dark. And before that, a long dark fence, much taller even than her father.
And here, how does she know where they are? Does she have a GPS?
As Lillian was watching the fence draw nearer, a sliding panel opened and Mr. Smith's head popped out.
"Sir? Mr. Shaw?"
I'm not entirely clear on what's going on here. Is Mr. Shaw Lillian's father? If so, make it more clear that Smith is speaking, and it would probably be a good idea to have the two men ask for him by name back when Lillian answers the door. If Lillian can't remember Smith's name, then the narration shouldn't either.
Noticing her father sleeping and Lillian awake, he turned to her instead, "Hey there little one. Could you wake up your father for me?"
Stop. No one ever calls children 'little one'. 'Little girl' would be fine, but not 'little one'.
Although she didn't particularly like being called little one--she was third tallest in her class after all!--Lillian decided it was neither the time nor place to argue and reached up to tap her father on the bridge of his nose. He was awake immediately.
"Are we there?" He asked, looking out of the window.
"Yes, sir."
Again, it's slightly ambiguous as to who's speaking. It's probably Smith, but while Lillian saying this would be weird, it is insufficiently weird that I automatically assume that she didn't.
The car had slowed to a stop and Mr. Smith withdrew his head--sliding the little window shut again as he did.
As his window slid shut, the main window on Lillian's father's side opened. Another man was standing outside, this one in Army fatigues.
"Identification please," he asked pleasantly enough. Lillian's father offered his right arm, palm up for the scanner. The soldier pulled him a bit close and Lillian could hear the slight electric hum as the scanner read the identification chip under his skin.
"Her next."
"We don't have time for this," her father replied, an edge to his voice.
"Policy, sir. Everyone must be scanned."
"It's okay Daddy, really it is," Lillian said, lifting her arm towards the young man. As he brought up the scanner again, her father put his palm against it, applying just enough pressure to hold it down.
"That won't be necessary."
Again, the ambiguous dialogue strikes. Is this Smith talking or her father? Also, it could be a bit more clear that her father is stopping the soldier from using the scanner, rather than pushing it down onto Lillian's hand or something. Maybe rather than pushing the scanner down he pulls Lillian away?
There was a sound of the front window opening up and a cough from Mr. Smith. The young soldier leaned towards the front window. The talked for a few moments and then the young soldier was backing away from the car, looking shaken. He waved to someone else out of view and the car began to move again.
"What's going on Daddy?" Lillian asked as the window rolled back up.
"Just a little longer." Her father seemed distracted, looking out the window.
Lillian looked too and all she could see was a short concrete wall surrounding what looked vaguely like a streamlined bus sitting on its back end with a cage-like steel tube stretching around it and several stories overhead.
"Do you know what that is?" her father asked.
Lillian thought for a moment. "A Squill?"
It might be good here to have Lillian suddenly recognize what the bus-shaped thing was before she names it, so it doesn't just come out of nowhere. This is more of a personal thing though.
Her father smiled. "Yes dear. Single-use quick launch. Did you learn about that in school?"
"Yeah. Ms. Wady was talking about them when we covered the early lunar colonies. They can get into space, but only once. Once they're in space, they're broken down. That way you can have space launch without having to pay for re-entry and also a way to get raw materials into space."
"Very good." Her father still seemed distracted.
"Is that where we're going Daddy?"
He started at that and then turned to his daughter. "Yes dear."
We've gotten past most of the rough bits with Lillian. She is pretty consistently between 8 and 10 years old from here on, with her talk about school and her dialogue with her father. The explanation of the squill is very good, sounds like she's basically quoting what her teacher said.
"Into space?"
"Yes we are."
"Why?"
"You'll see," her father smiled, but it was a distracted sort of smile. Lillian knew that she'd just have to wait it out. Oh sure, if she really decided to push the issue, she could beg and plead and he'd tell her. But he already seemed troubled enough.
This isn't so good. An eight year old who wants to know something will not accept 'he already seemed troubled enough'. She could be distracted by looking out the windows, staring up at the things she'd only ever seen in textbook pictures before, or something like that.
Instead she busied herself looking out the windows. While at first she'd only noticed a single Squill, now she could see half a dozen, each with a crowd of people scurrying about, preparing them for launch. She could also see several cars of every imaginable make and model parked haphazardly around each of them.
Is there a difference between car 'makes' and 'models'? I honestly don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't.
Watching the other cars, Lillian wasn't ready when her own car suddenly skidded to a halt a dozen meters from the Squill her father had first pointed out. She pitched forward in her seat at the sudden deceleration, but she was caught by a combination of her seatbelt and her father's steady hand. She carefully slid back into her seat, blushing slightly.
Moments later, Mr. Smith was opening her door and handing back her bag. He had her father's bag as well. Looking at the Squill, she could feel as much as hear the electric hum of its track powering up. It was ready to launch.
But that's not right, she thought, Squills have to wait at least half an hour for the final systems check after being boarded. This one is ready to go. So why did they bring us here?
This doesn't make much sense. Why wouldn't you be able to board after a final systems check? Do they have to account for the extra weight or something? The further descriptions of the of the ship make this even weirder. If passengers weren't supposed to get on after the systems check, why can the doors still open? 'That's unusual' wouldn't be out of place, but 'That's not right' is.
"All aboard," her father said, a grin that looked plastered on his face. The grin stopped well south of his eyes.
"But Daddy, why..."
"No time for that," he interrupted and grabbed hold of Lillian's hand, pulling her towards the Squill.
Lillian was shocked. Her father always made it a point to let her finish what she was saying--even if he wasn't going to answer, he'd at least consider the question. Dazed, she followed after her father, first at a quick walk, and then at a jog as his stride lengthened.
As he glanced down to make sure that she wasn’t having any trouble keeping up with him, he must have seen another question forming on her lips. "Not now," he started, "I promise, I'll explain everything as soon as I get a chance."
This bit is very good. You do a good job showing the urgency of what's going on, and especially how Lillian is only just now noticing it.
They reached the back door of the Squill and he flashed some sort of identification that Lillian had never seen him use before at a large man in a jumpsuit. He looked like some sort of mechanic with a set of tools around his waist and a few dark smudges on his clothes. The man's eyes widened slightly and he nodded at her father. Without warning, he picked her up off the ground and handed her to the large man.
The comment about the ID is a bit weird. If it was a card that he was showing to the mechanic, Lillian wouldn't be able to see it at all, let alone clearly enough to realize that she'd never seen him use it before, especially since she's been running after him. For that matter, when would she have seen him use any kind of ID?
"Get her buckled in safe and sound, will you?" her father called up.
"Yessir," the mechanic rumbled and half guided, half pushed Lillian towards the ladder set into the floor of the ship. At first Lillian was disoriented. The wall she was climbing up was carpeted like a floor and all the seats were facing up towards the top of the Squill. Then she remembered that Squills generally sat in their dock horizontally and only turned vertically for launch. Once they docked with another craft in space, the other crafts artificial gravity could turn the floor into a floor again.
She wondered again why she'd been sent to this Squill, so close to launch. Looking around, she could see that most of the seats were already full with a wide assortment of people. Many where within a few years of her age, but there was an elderly couple with white hair up near the front and a few men in suits towards the back. Such an odd collection of people, she mused. Looking around, she noticed an empty seat next to the aisle about halfway up the Squill and started to climb towards it.
This bit's good again. Lillian is taking this all in stride, but it's clearly more because she does not know what's going on rather than because she's stupid or has magical calmness abilities.
She made it without trouble and fastened herself in as quickly as she could. It was a strange feeling. The belts reminded her strongly of the seat belts in a car, only more complicated, but she was facing directly upwards towards the front of the Squill. The safety harnesses seemed to have a mind of their own and it took her longer than she'd hoped to get everything buckled correctly.
Once she had everything settled, she turned back to look for her father. Instead of her father, the mechanic was standing at her level on the ladder, attaching her bag and the silver briefcase to a set of harnesses strung along the ceiling--currently the back wall of the craft. It was already full almost to bursting with an amazing variety of bags and suitcases, but somehow he managed to find a spot.
As he was fiddling with the harasses, Lillian turned in her seat as much as she could and looked down at the door. It was already closed and her father was nowhere in sight.
"Mister," she called out to the mechanic, "where's my father?"
"No room," he responded.
"But, but," She could feel the first twinges of panic running through her. "There has to be room." Looking around, she realized he was right. From her higher vantage point, she could tell there was only a single seat left at the very back of the Squill--where the mechanic would sit.
"Where is he?"
"Getting a ride on one of the others, I expect," he replied, finishing strapping the silver briefcase in. "He made damn sure that this went with you though." He hesitated, "Pardon my language, miss."
This continues to be good. Basically the same reasons as the last bit.
He didn't seem to want to say anything more and turned away from her. He put one hand on each side of the ladder leading up the floor and slid down the craft faster than she would have believed possible. In a blink of an eye, he was buckling himself in.
Looking about, none of the others seemed to want to catch her eye, even the boy she was sitting with. She turned to him anyways, "Do you know what's going on?"
He ignored her for a second, but seemed to sense that she wouldn't give up. He sighed and turned to her.
"There's something coming," he whispered.
"Coming?" she whispered back.
"That's all they know. Triton Station picked it up. Lucky that with how fast it was going. It was by them in a matter of minutes."
"Just how fast was it going?"
He shrugged. "Really really fast. Faster than anything we've ever built."
This talk with the boy is a bit awkward. Why would the boy know these things, if she doesn't? And why would he change his mind about being reluctant. Maybe he overheard his dad talking to someone, and when he was caught they'd made him promise not to tell. ('Well, I heard my dad talking about this, but I promised not to tell...' 'Oh
please tell me!' he squirmed in his seat, as his desire to tell battled with his desire to obey his father. 'Well... okay. He says,' his voice dropping to a low whisper, 'that something's coming...') Alternately,, take away the bit about him being reluctant to catch her eye and have him be really excited. (The boy next to her on the other hand looked excited about something. 'Do you know what's going on?' she asked, and he nodded, grinning. 'Didn't you hear? They say something's coming...'). Or else have her overhear what the two elderly people are saying, or something. Also, you should probably mention that the empty seat she found was next to a boy.
The detail about the engines firing up, or whatever space ships do, and the boy raising his voice as the sound gets louder is a nice touch.
Lillian whistled softly. The Hermes had been going over half the speed of light when it had sent it's final transmission and the Daedalus--although it was still under construction--would be capable of going even faster.
Why would she think this? A girl as young as I think she's supposed to be probably wouldn't be thinking in terms of things like 'half the speed of light'. Everything above cars would just be 'really fast'. It would be less jarring if you mentioned earlier that she kept up with space news, or else had a special interest in space probes or something.
The boy was still talking, his words growing louder to compete with the growing electric hum. Lillian felt like her skin was trying to crawl way from the vibrations. "It took them an hour to figure its trajectory. Even with a relay through Mars gate, it took another few hours for the signal to reach Earth."
"What is it?"
"No one knows." He definitely wasn't whispering now. The launch system had reached its full power and he was nearly yelling to make himself heard over the electric hum that permeated the very air. "But they do know that it's coming right for us."
"Why?"
If he had a response, she never heard it. There was whirring noise mixed with the hum that flew from the back of the Squill up passed them to the front and Lillian suddenly felt a tremendous weight on her chest as the Squill was thrown violently upwards.
This last bit is mostly fine, though the explanation about relaying things through the Mars gate is kind of technobabbley.
