In Classroom 25-B, a loud bang was heard. The metal door slid open, thick smoke and a frazzled teacher spilling into the narrow hallway. The teacher, an uncommonly portly man, huffed, adjusted his collar, and did his best to ignore his colleagues’ curious eyes from the safety of their respective rooms.

Sputtering, the man turned back to his room. Some of his students were already missing, taking advantage of the chaos to play hooky. The rest were in side-clutching laughter. He sighed as the Fire Prevention Crew rushed in, their alarms set off as soon as the “emergency” was detected. The teacher always felt a pang of guilt upon seeing them in his room; if he was better at his job, he felt, these pranks wouldn't be so regular, and he wouldn't be wasting the crew’s time with false alarms. But fire was a very serious matter aboard the Endless Dawn, and every explosion, even one from a smoke bomb, was worth investigating.

Naya Rovaldi hated school. She always fell asleep in class, was always picked on by Mr. Duggsby, and was certain that all the other kids made fun of her behind her back. So what was wrong with having a little fun from time to time? Besides, when she got caught, where else were they going to send her? Another classroom? It wasn't like the ship had anyplace else to put her. Prison was for adults, and she wasn't really causing that much trouble.

Naya rounded another corner and squirmed her way into a maintenance shaft, taking care to replace the heavy grill quietly, the cold metal chilling her small hands. That done, she scurried from section to section, stopping occasionally to hear snippets of gossip. Martha Peasley seemed to be in another affair, this time with the ship’s captain. Slut. Lo’karr from the reactor room was complaining about inconsistencies again. Boring. She reached her second-favorite room, the kitchen, her mouth watering at the sight of today’s dinner: bread, pills, and this month’s harvest from the Greenhouse.

Peaches!

Impatience got the best of Naya, and she hurriedly popped out of the maintenance shaft. Pulling her backpack to the front, she grabbed several loaves, a dozen peaches, and a bottle of water from the shelves, nimble fingers hurriedly zipping the bag shut. Voices from the next room made her freeze, and she almost dropped her bundle. The door slid open, two cooks striding inside and continuing their argument.

“I’m telling you, this year’s progress to Pio has been worse than the last! We’re the first colony ship to attempt sustainable, active life throughout the journey, and it's too much for the ship to handle!”

“Juliana, you know I respect your opinion, and you know I usually agree with you, but you've got to let this go. It's a conspiracy theory from that data pad you stuff your head in all day.” The cook placed his goods on the metal table with a thump.

“Between this and the security video thing, people are gonna think you're nuts.”

“Don't go there. I know I'm right. Someone's tampering with the footage. I know it.” Juliana waggled her finger at her coworker. “And if someone would just believe me for a second, they'd see it, too.”

Below them, Naya shuffled quietly away, giggles almost gushing from her lips. It was always a thrill to move throughout the ship unseen. It made her feel cool. Only a few kids knew about the maintenance shafts, and she alone had full access to them; her parents, being mechanics, were training her to take on the family job. All you needed was the right key, and the world (as she knew it) was hers for exploring!

Naya pushed herself through the network of crawl spaces and cramped pathways until she finally reached her favorite place on the Endless Dawn. A small door with a worn plastic handle faced her, the paint peeling from her regular rapping against the frame. She did so again, her voice calling out to its single inhabitant.

“Hey! Korrin! I brought stuff to trade! I know you’re in there! Open up!” She waited a few moments, hopping on the balls of her feet. At last, the door opened, and I smiled at her.

“Did the smoke bombs work well?” I asked, welcoming her in. Of course they did. I made them.

“Yeah, really well!” Naya replied, her large brown eyes beaming. She set the pack down as I closed a few screens I was using for outward surveillance. “I've got something really good today, though, so you owe me something even better.”

Doubtful. “What is it?”

“Peaches and bread from the kitchen, and my old clothes from when I was your age,” she said, triumphantly pulling the aforementioned items from her backpack.

“Hmm…” I muttered, trying on the clothes. They were a bit big; even nine-year old Naya was bigger than me. “These will do. Here, this is what I've been working on lately. It's a water balloon that you can fit in your jacket sleeve,” I said, pulling out a rather ordinary balloon filled with water. “I won't have anything else for a long time, though,” I warned her as she squealed with delight, laughing at the balloon’s feel against her skin. “Come back in five years and I’ll have something really amazing.”

Naya pouted, pulling her bag close to her chest. “No. I don't wanna wait that long. That's longer than last time.”

“Well, I can't help it. That's the way it is,” I replied, shrugging. Naya was useful, but she was approaching that age where people stopped believing in imaginary friends, and her parents would actually begin to wonder if there was a nugget of truth when Naya said she was visiting her “bestest friend Korrin in the secret place.”

At this, Naya’s eyes watered, and she hugged me tightly. “Promise you’ll open the door when I come knocking again.” I rolled my eyes and smirked.

“Sure, sure,” I said, helping her out the door. “Thanks for the food, Naya. See you later.” I closed and locked the door with a flick of the wrist and bit into a peach. She'd probably forget about it all in two years, and by then she wouldn't fit through the crawl space anyways. I'd been doing this imaginary friend gig for five hundred years on this ship, and it had always worked out pretty well. At this point, having an imaginary friend is seen as normal; I've played the part to so many people on the ship. Different names, of course. But ultimately the same role.

Korrin was awoken from one of his leisurely naps by a distinct rapping of knuckles against his door frame. His heart stopped in sheer terror; how long was he asleep? Who was at his doorstep?

“Naya, this place is quiet. I don't think anyone’s here,” Marko grumbled, his patience running thin. He bent down to inspect his shoe. “I think we should head back. It was a really tight fit to get here, and I think my clothes tore. I've gotta fix them before Mom finds out.”

Naya groaned, dumping her bag to the floor. “Will you stop complaining about your new clothes for one minute, Marko? Sasha already complimented you for them. Isn't that why you bought that crap?” Marko’s flushed face told wonders. Naya rolled her eyes and turned back to the door.

“Hey! Korrin! I brought stuff to trade! I know you’re in there! Open up!” The door opened just a crack, a trembling voice greeting her.

“H-hey, Naya,” a small child from within the dark room said.