Divided

by Evangeline Anderson

  “But—”

  “He—”

  “No!” Becca held up her hands to stop them. “I’m going to remind you of what my mom told me—if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Starting now.”

  Her words were met by silence so Becca assumed that neither had a single nice thing to say to the other.

  “All right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “That’s more like it. Now let’s get going so we can find Vashtar, get the cure, and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps—the sooner we get back to the ship the better.”

  They walked along the long, straight road in silence, their feet crunching on the hard surface. Or at least Becca could feel her feet crunching—she couldn’t hear a thing except her own breathing and, faintly, the breathing of Far and Truth which came over her suit’s receiver mic. The quiet was eerie, making Becca feel like she had cotton balls stuffed in her ears. Also, her legs felt heavy—no, not just her legs—her entire body felt like it was being weighed down with invisible weights.

  Must be the gravity—maybe Orthanx is slightly bigger than Earth. At least I’m not too cold, she thought. As promised, the thin silver suit seemed to be keeping her from freezing. Becca was a little chilly but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. The temperature she could feel reminded her of a winter day in Tampa which was to say, somewhere in the low to mid 60s. Not exactly comfortable, but not horrible either.

  Overhead, the sky was perfectly black and filled with jewel like stars but the planet itself had absolutely no life on it as far as she could see. No grass or trees of any kind, which she supposed was to be expected, but there was something else missing which surprised her as well.

  “Why is there no ice?” she asked, looking at Truth. “If it’s really as cold as the instruments said the whole planet should be covered in it—shouldn’t it?”

  The dark twin shook his head. “The water would have boiled away as soon as Void lost its atmosphere. There is literally none left to freeze and make ice.”

  “This is a dead world,” Far murmured from her other side. “Life as we know it isn’t possible without some form of liquid. Wherever they are, the Orthanxians must have a remarkably long lasting energy source. Do you agree, Brother?

  Becca was afraid that Truth would say something snarky back, but he only gave a noncommittal grunt and shrugged. Well good—he must be taking her mother’s words to heart. For a moment she tried to imagine introducing him to her mom—whose first question would be if he was Catholic, no doubt. Her second question would probably have to do with why Far was there as well because try as she might, Becca couldn’t imagine showing up at her parents’ house with just one of them.

  Might as well sew a scarlet A to my chest as bring them both home for supper, she thought ruefully. But then, her parents wouldn’t be happy with anyone she brought home—they had been bitterly disappointed by her decision not to become a nun. Becca was pretty sure that her mom was still hoping she might take her vows. Which wasn’t going to happen but her mom had a hard time letting go of things.

  Just like you, whispered the little voice in her head. Otherwise you would have given up on Far and Truth long ago and gone back to Earth where you really belong. Instead you’re eighty million light years from home on a dead planet with no atmosphere and two angry Kindred warriors who hate each other’s guts. Now if you were smart—

  Her thoughts were interrupted as the road they were on passed between the first of the tall, thin hills. They were steeply vertical and strangely angular—like giant triangular monoliths rising toward the silent, starry sky. In fact, they reminded Becca of…

  “Buildings,” she breathed. “Look—a few even still have windows. These are the Orthanx version of skyscrapers!”

  Far frowned and looked upwards. “You’re right. They’re crumbled and decayed but still standing even after so many millennia—amazing.”

  “But what about those?” Becca pointed to the massive mounds of rubble dotted here and there throughout the ancient, deserted city. “They look like they exploded. Did someone drop a bomb on them, do you think?”

  “Most likely it was meteorites,” Truth said. “With no atmosphere to protect it, Void is vulnerable to extraterrestrial projectiles.”

  “Meteorites, really?” Becca looked in awe. “They did this much damage?”

  “This isn’t much, actually. I would guess that the ones that hit these buildings were relatively small,” the dark twin replied. “You only have to look at the surface of your own moon with its many craters to realize how much damage such projectiles can do when there is no atmosphere to burn them up or break them apart before impact.”

  Becca had never visited the surface of the moon. But she’d seen it often enough through the viewing windows on the Mother Ship to know what he was talking about.

  “I don’t see any skeletons,” she murmured as they continued through the deserted city. “Do you think they all escaped?”

  “I guess we’ll see,” Far answered. “Look—I think that’s the entrance to the underground area.” He pointed to a vast, shadowy staircase on one side of the long, straight road. The stairs led straight down underground.

  “This is it, all right.” Truth was consulting a small handheld device. “The coordinates we want are almost directly underneath us.”

  Becca’s stomach dropped when she looked at the seemingly endless stairs going down into impenetrable shadow. They look haunted, she couldn’t help thinking. Like the cellar steps in a horror movie. The kind the stupid girl always winds up going down because she hears what she thinks is her boyfriend calling. But it’s actually some evil demon or monster waiting to tear her apart.

  Becca hated that kind of movie—she always wanted to yell at the idiotic character that she was going to get herself killed. Which was pretty much what her own internal voice was saying now. Don’t be a damn fool! Get away from those haunted-ass stairs and get the hell out of here right now! it demanded.

  But as much as she wanted to, Becca couldn’t obey. They had promised to get a cure for the possessed warriors aboard the Mother Ship and they had to go down those creepy stairs to get it.

  “I guess we’re just supposed to go down, huh?” she said in a small voice.

  “I suppose so.” Far must have seen the fear on her face because he took her hand consolingly. “Don’t worry, mi’now, I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Truth cleared his throat. “I am also here.”

  Becca gave him a look. “I thought you were angry with me. That you didn’t care anymore.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Truth growled. “I will still protect you with my life. As any honorable male charged with the safety of a female would,” he went on, a bit too quickly, Becca thought.

  “All right.” She nodded and extended her gloved hand to him. “Then take my other hand.”

  Truth scowled. “I fail to see how that will help protect you.”

  “It won’t. But it will make me feel better.” Becca waved her silver gloved hand invitingly. “Look, we won’t even be touching skin-to-skin. Please, Truth? I…” She bit her lip as she glanced at the yawning mouth of the vast staircase again. “I really need to be between the two of you right now. I need to feel protected.”

  Truth looked at her skeptically and Becca could almost feel him wondering if she was serious or if she was just trying to get him to break down his self-imposed walls.

  To be honest, holding hands with both brothers at once seemed like a good first step to bringing them closer but Becca wasn’t pretending just to get Truth and Far together. For the first time, she truly felt the desire to be between them, to feel herself encircled by their large, male bodies. To be protected by her men.

  Void, or Orthanx or whatever you wanted to call it was a dark, dead, scary place eighty million light years from home. Becca didn’t care if it sounded girly or weak—if she was going to go down those scary-ass steps, she wanted all the protection a
nd reassurance she could get.

  “Very well,” Truth said at last. “But this is for your comfort only, Rebecca.” Grudgingly, he took her hand.

  “Thank you, Truth.” Becca flashed him a grateful smile. “I feel better already.”

  “Yes, very well,” the dark twin grumbled. “Then let us descend.” He nodded at the dark opening, which looked like the entrance to a subway tunnel, and, as if by unspoken mutual consent, the three of them moved toward it.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The scary steps seemed endless. After the first few they lost the pale light from the stars overhead and Truth activated the glow pack on the front of his suit. It was set at chest level and it illuminated the steps in front of them going down and down forever into darkness.

  It’s going to be no fun coming back up these, Becca thought as they descended. I bet we’ll burn a thousand calories apiece—did the Orthanxians used to climb up and down them every day? They must have been in amazing shape. They must—

  Her thoughts were interrupted when they finally reached the bottom step.

  “Whew.” Becca let out a sigh of relief. “Thought those were never going to end. How far down are we, do you think?”

  “Far enough,” Truth said grimly. “Come—the coordinates are this way.”

  He led the way across another flat, paved surface into a vast tunnel with a curving ceiling high overhead. It reminded Becca more and more of a subway system. But where were the trains? Or for that matter, the tracks?

  Maybe they used some other mode of transportation, she told herself uneasily. They were an alien culture after all—they probably had all kinds of weird ways of getting around. But though she tried to push the feeling away, she couldn’t shake the foreboding hovering around her like a dark cloud. Something in the vast subway tunnel just didn’t feel right.

  At least there aren’t any weird echoes to freak us out, she thought. No air to carry sound waves means no spooky noises. But actually, the lack of sound was the spookiest thing of all. Becca felt like she was exploring a tomb—the final resting place of some ancient creature that had died years ago and rotted away leaving nothing but its unquiet spirit behind.

  Stop it, she scolded herself, squeezing her men’s hands tighter for reassurance. Stop freaking yourself out! You’re being silly. So just stop it.

  “I see a wall up ahead.” Truth’s voice crackled in her ear, a welcome change from her paranoid thoughts and morbid fantasies.

  “And there’s a door—or what looks like one,” Far added. “Vashtar must be through there.”

  Becca looked and saw what he was talking about. Far in the distance but getting closer was a vast, dull, copper-colored wall, the apparent end of the huge tunnel. Placed in its center was what looked like a pair of elevator doors—if they had elevators that big. These looked large enough to admit an elephant. Had the Orthanxians been huge—much bigger than Vashtar had led them to believe? Or was this doorway simply meant for a lot of people at the same time?

  Her eyes dropped from the door itself to something on the floor before it. A huge pile of what looked like dry sticks was scattered around, piled two and three feet deep in places. Most of them were long and thin but some of them seemed rounded in a way that was strangely familiar.

  “What are those?” she asked, frowning. “Why were they stockpiling sticks? For firewood or something?”

  “I don’t think they’re sticks,” Far said in a low voice.

  “What? Then what are they?” Becca frowned as they came to the beginning of the stick pile. It was so vast they were going to have to wade through it to get to the door. Had the Orthanxians been trying to erect some kind of barricade? To keep someone out of their inner chambers?

  “They’re bones,” Truth said flatly. Reaching down, he picked up one long, blackened stick and held it up to the glow coming from his suit.

  “Oh my God!” Becca felt suddenly sick. “That’s…is that a femur? And the rounded ones—they’re skulls, aren’t they?”

  Truth squeezed lightly and the bone crumbled in his gloved hand. He dropped it and wiped his palm on the side of his suit.

  “Nothing but dust now,” he said harshly. “Come, Rebecca—the dead can’t hurt you.”

  “No they can’t but that doesn’t mean I want to wade through a freaking pile of them.” Becca felt her stomach roll over and wondered what would happen if she puked in her suit. “Mother of God, were they stuck out here? Left to die? They must have been clawing at the doors, climbing on top of each other when the disaster struck.”

  “It looks that way from the way the bones are piled on top of each other,” Far said quietly. “Here—I’ll clear a path for you, mi’now.”

  “No, I will,” Truth said. “There might be danger ahead—Far, you stay behind me and see to Rebecca.”

  Without waiting to see if they would obey, he surged forward, pushing a path through the knee and sometimes waist-high piles of bones, clearing the way for them.

  “Come, mi’now.” Before she could protest, Far picked Becca up, cradling her in his arms like a baby.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she protested. “You don’t have to carry me—I can walk.”

  “I don’t want you to. The fewer feet stepping on the dead, the less they’ll be disturbed.”

  Becca frowned. “You don’t really believe that—it’s not like you’re superstitious.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold you.” He smiled at her and despite the grim situation, Becca couldn’t help smiling back.

  “You really are too much, you know that?”

  “Too much and yet not enough.” Far’s eyes strayed to his brother’s broad back as Truth pushed his way through the piles of bones.

  Becca felt a sudden stab of sorrow at the longing in his deep, quiet voice. She had to find a way to bring them together. But how?

  I don’t know, but somehow I’ll do it, she vowed to herself. Even if the three of us don’t end up together, the two of them should. Whatever it takes, I’m going to get Far and Truth together like they ought to be.

  As she finished making her vow, they finally reached the vast, copper-colored, elevator-looking doors. Truth examined them for a moment, a frown on his dark face.

  “They’re sealed shut,” he announced. “How are we supposed to get in?”

  “Maybe by using those?” Becca nodded to a small, flat panel to one side of the far door, exactly where an elevators call button would be located.

  But instead of buttons marked up or down, there were three indentations in a row.

  “Look—handprints,” Far said. “Three of them.”

  “I see them.” Truth pushed the crumbling bones aside and cleared a path to the panel. The handprints were alien to Becca’s eyes—the palms too narrow and the fingers too long and thin. Truth tried them all in turn but nothing happened.

  “Maybe they have to be pushed in some kind of order? A secret code?” Far suggested. “May I?”

  “If you wish.” Truth stepped aside and Far put Becca down to try several different combinations with the three prints. Nothing happened.

  “Well, this is ridiculous,” Truth growled. “If Vashtar was so interested in helping us he could have given us the combination to get in.”

  Becca had a sudden realization.

  “He did!” She pressed forward, ignoring the crumbling bones at her feet. “Look—he told us that his society was like Twin Kindred society. Three handprints for three people. It takes all three of us to open the door.”

  “Of course,” Far exclaimed. “But whose hand goes where?” He tried pressing his right hand to the middle print while Truth pressed the left print and Becca pressed the right.

  Nothing happened.

  Becca coughed. “Um, I think I’m supposed to be in the middle, guys. Can we try it like that?”

  They did and the vast, dull metal doors at last slid open soundlessly. Behind them were another set of doors. The minute the three of them
were inside, the first set closed behind them.

  “Ummm…” Becca swallowed, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. The space was long but also very narrow—barely big enough to admit the three of them standing side by side.

  Before she could get too nervous, however, a pencil thin beam of green light appeared from the shadowy ceiling and scanned them from head to foot.

  “Get back!” Truth was already drawing his blaster but the light winked off almost immediately. A high, flutelike voice said something in an alien tongue. Because she’d had the Kindred translation bacteria, Becca understood it.

  “Three to enter the inner sanctum. No contamination detected. Allow to pass.”

  The door in front of them slid open and they found themselves in yet another vast, shadowy room.

  But this room was filled with tanks.

  “What are these?” Becca walked forward slowly. The room looked like a warehouse. Rows upon rows of huge rectangular tanks about three feet deep and seven feet long extended what seemed like miles into the distance. In fact, Becca couldn’t even see the walls of the room and the ceiling was lost in shadows. It was a truly huge space.

  She could hear though—the sound of her boots scuffing along the ground made her realize that the protective bubble covering her head had disappeared.

  “Hey!” She put a hand to her face and touched her cheek. “My bubble’s gone.”

  “That’s because there is breathable air here,” Truth said. “The suit automatically retracts the atmosphere bubble when it senses conditions are right—to conserve resources.”

  “Of course.” Becca shivered. “It’s pretty cold, though. My nose is tingling and my cheeks are numb.”

  Far nodded. “Yes, but it’s not life threatening—just uncomfortable—or the suit wouldn’t have retracted the bubble.”

  “I guess.” Becca put her hands to her freezing cheeks, wishing she had some hot coffee or tea to sip. Anything to warm up. But since the nearest Starbucks was eighty million light years away, it didn’t look like she was going to be getting a grande caramel macchiato anytime soon. Better suck it up girl, she told herself. Aloud, she said, “Well, I guess we should see what’s in the tanks.”