Chasing the Shadows

by Maria V. Snyder

  Sitting on the couch, I spot Radcliff’s portable on the table. I access the chapters on how to deal with a combative prisoner—yet another fact-filled assignment from my training officer. I wonder just how much of these lessons will stick with me. Once a situation goes sideways and the adrenaline kicks in, I find it hard to believe I’ll be able to maintain a clinical detachment. Sipping my tea, I spend the next couple hours reading. And the dry protocols do what the tea could not: I fall asleep on the couch.

  Jarren invades my dreams. No surprise as he’s been a frequent visitor of late. This time he’s standing in the hallway on the other side of the door to our unit.

  Come out and play, Little Worm. It’s been so boring without you, Dream Jarren calls.

  Go away.

  It’s too late for that. I’m coming for you. The door opens and he strides in. He holds out a hand to me. Let’s fly!

  No. I’m not supposed to. DES—

  Is handling the situation? You do realize I’ve been building my network for years and they’ve no clue what I’m doing? They’re not a threat to me. His tone implies they’re more a threat to me. Actually, they’re quite useful as I’ve learned a few things. Jarren gives me a significant look. What started as a dream just veered into reality.

  His sly cat-ate-the-mouse smile turns my blood into ice. We’re in the Q-net. And I’m communicating with the real Jarren as if we’re worming together like we used to do back on Xinji. Did my dream self inadvertently reach out to him in the Q-net or did he come looking for me? And, more importantly, does he know it’s me or think I’m some other wormer? All scary questions.

  I panic. Go away.

  He sighs. You’re no fun, Lyra…or should I call you Ara?

  His last words render me speechless and confirm he’s well aware of who I am despite not seeing me in the camera feeds.

  You can change your name, but you can’t hide from me. See you soon. Jarren leaves.

  Without thinking, I follow him. Well, I track him. I zip through his breach, cut through a number of clusters, and dip toward the star roads—they call to me. Ignoring them, I focus on Jarren. But his trail is gone. Where is he?

  And then the Q-net says, HERE.

  And I about faint from the shock. But I’m too busy falling toward a planet. It’s bright yellow and a desert covers sixty-eight percent of its surface. The other thirty-two percent is carpeted by forests. Tall green trees with big canopies of leaves spread out over the rolling landscape and effectively hide Jarren and his thugs from the satellite’s cameras.

  The planet is Yulin.

  Fifteen

  2522:236

  Oh my stars! Jarren has been hiding on Planet Yulin this entire time. Even though the desire to get far away fast pushes on me, I need to move through the Q-net without causing ripples. I don’t want Jarren to know I’ve located him. Before I wake up…er…disentangle, I check the satellite feeds, searching for a shuttle flying toward the base or an army of looters crossing the desert.

  The early morning sun washes the sand with its golden light. Other than a few field teams, nothing else stirs. I create a program to alert us if there is any movement from Jarren’s camp. Tucking it into Jarren’s own protections to hide it is somewhat fun—I’m still freaked over the fact he’s so close. And that he knows I’m alive. And that we had a conversation through the Q-net.

  Although I shouldn’t be surprised Jarren knows. Beau and I predicted DES would bungle it. Then I disentangle, ensuring I don’t take any shortcuts to avoid a killer migraine, and ignoring the tight ball of panic in my chest that’s squeezing out distress signals: Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

  When I open my eyes, Radcliff is standing in the living room. He’s frowning down at the portable in his hands.

  “Why are you on the couch?” he asks.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” The truth.

  He taps the portable. “So you were worming instead?”

  Talk about a trick question. Smoothing my hair away from my face, I sit up. “No. I was reading. Then I fell asleep and then I was worming.” Which didn’t sound as good as it did in my head. “But not on purpose.”

  “Ara—”

  “Jarren knows I’m alive. And he’s here. On Yulin.”

  Radcliff’s grumpy annoyance transforms to steel. “Where?”

  “Other side of the planet. In the forest.”

  His fingers dance on the portable for a minute. Then he hands it to me. “Show me.”

  There’s a map of Yulin. I scroll, searching for an area that looks familiar until the rest of my brain wakes up. Connecting with the Q-net, I request a marker. A big red dot pulses over a large swathe of trees. I return the portable to him and disconnect.

  “Sonovabitch,” Radcliff says, striding to the door.

  Before he can take off, I say, “I’ve set up an alarm. If he leaves that area, you’ll be alerted.”

  He pauses with one hand on the door. “I don’t know whether to discipline you for disobeying orders or give you a commendation.”

  I know which one I’d pick. “Let’s get through this first and then you can decide.”

  “Nice dodge, Lawrence.” He leaves.

  And I hurry to report to training on time. I know not to say anything to Elese, but I have to admit it’s killing me not to confide in her. The need to hear her say, “It’ll be okay” is almost a physical ache. A hug of support would be nice, too. I’m even willing to overlook the evidence to the contrary. Yup, I’m that easy.

  My sessions with Mr. Orange Light have progressed. Now he swings back and forth, ducking my shots. And I know it’s a cliché to say that it’s hard to hit a moving target, but it is really difficult to get the timing just right. While my misses outnumber my hits ten to one, I wonder how Jarren managed to shoot me from a hovering shuttle, while I was running. He must have practiced during those extra twenty years.

  Other than plotting to take over the Galaxy, what else was he doing? Probably figuring out the Warrior mystery and other nefarious deeds. I have to admit when he said he’d explain everything to me and that we’d be heroes, I was tempted to hear him out. But… If he can figure it all out, then so can we.

  Determination pumps through my veins. I aim, wait a few seconds, and fire. Direct hit! Yes! Mr. Orange Light winks out.

  And so do the rest of the lights in the shooting range. I count heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Then they turn back on along with my panic. Expecting to see looters streaming into the training room, I race out with my pulse gun in hand and stop.

  Zaim and Rance are using the weight machines and Elese is pummeling a punching bag with her bare knuckles. No one appears alarmed. But then again no one knows about our unfriendly neighbor.

  “Something wrong?” Elese asks. Sweat streams down her face, but she’s not out of breath. The bag creaks as it spins and swings on the end of the chain.

  “Did the lights flicker out here?”

  “Yeah. Must have been a glitch. Why?”

  “Ah, I thought it might be a sandstorm.” Hiding an army of looters!

  “More like sand in the machinery.”

  True. Those little grains of annoyance get into everything.

  “How’s target practice?” Elese asks.

  “I decided to take pity on Mr. Orange Light. Let him feel like he’s doing well for a change.”

  “That good, eh? Just wait until he starts shooting back. I doubt you’ll take pity on him then.”

  “He can shoot back?” Yikes.

  “Only way to learn how to aim and fire during a battle situation. You think it’s hard now, wait until you’re jacked on adrenaline, in a dark room unable to see the enemy.”

  Like the shadow-blobs. “I get it.”

  “No you don’t. But you will.”

  Those ominous words echo in my head as I return to the shooting range. Mr. Orange Light no longer appears friendly. And I no longer allow distracting thoughts to wreck my concentration.

  No surprise, I’m ordered t
o report to the conference room that afternoon. As I take a seat, I consider asking Niall for some of his mom’s paintings to brighten up the place. I spend more time in here than my bedroom. Granted, I don’t have many other options.

  The usual suspects are here: Mom, Dad, Radcliff, and Morgan. All in the same seats, which is kind of funny. However, no one is smiling. Nope. It’s easy to guess that Radcliff told them Jarren’s location.

  “Please explain to everyone what you were doing last night,” Radcliff says.

  It doesn’t take me long.

  “I thought you said you had control,” Mom says to me. Her tone is harsh.

  “I do. Except when I’m worried about something.”

  Dad touches her arm as if to say ease off the girl. Her posture softens.

  “How does Jarren know about you?” Radcliff asks me.

  “I’m assuming DES tipped him off about our escape from his blockade, then, when he examined the breach, he figured out who created it.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t due to worming in your sleep?”

  It’s a valid question, yet the desire to shout, Why do you always blame me? burns in my throat. “Yes. At first I thought he was just a bad dream because I’ve been fretting about him. But I think he was searching for me.”

  “We’ll assume Jarren has been monitoring our communications with DES since yesterday. Please limit your messages to unimportant communications and say nothing of our security measures,” Radcliff says.

  In other words, don’t tell DES we know where Jarren is hiding.

  “We also need to train and arm as many people as we can before he arrives,” Radcliff continues. “Morgan, I want you to organize this A-sap and coordinate with Spencer regarding personnel. The archeology techs can help.”

  “Yes, sir,” Morgan says.

  “What I want to know is why didn’t the satellite pick up on their thermal signatures?” Dad asks.

  “They’re smarter than the average criminal,” Morgan says. “They located their base of operations on a hot spot. Deep underneath that area are thermal vents from volcanic magma. There’s hot springs all over. Jarren and his goons are probably enjoying nice hot baths every night.”

  “And can’t he worm into the satellite and alter the feeds?” Mom asks.

  “He can and did,” Radcliff says, then he meets my gaze.

  And he can again. “I better check all our security measures to ensure he hasn’t overridden them.”

  “Good idea, Lawrence. I also need you to find out how many people are at Jarren’s base, what weapons they might have, equipment, and if they have security patrolling the forest.”

  “You’re not thinking of attacking them, are you?” Mom asks.

  “It’s an option. Depends on their numbers and readiness. If they’re not expecting it, an attack could be quite effective.”

  “And dangerous.” Mom is looking at me.

  “It’s just as dangerous if they attack us. We need more information A-sap.”

  About that. “I’m going to require Officer Dorey’s help.”

  “Update him about Jarren’s status,” Radcliff says. “The rest of the team will be informed later this afternoon. Dismissed.”

  I hop up and head for the door, but my mom cuts me off.

  “We need to talk,” she says.

  “Now?”

  “No. Tonight after dinner, just thought I’d warn you.”

  I clutch at my chest in mock surprise. “That’s a first. Who’s dying?”

  She swats me on my bicep. “Brat.”

  “Takes one to know one,” I tease.

  “That’s mature.”

  “True, though.”

  “Go, before I show you just how bratty I can be.”

  I resist the urge to stick out my tongue at her before leaving. Beau’s waiting for me in his office.

  “Another meeting? What’s the big secret this time?” Beau asks.

  Ah, he’s still sore over the whole worming-without-tangs thing. “You’re going to regret asking that question.”

  “I am?”

  “Yup.” I fill him in.

  He slouches down in his chair. “Stars, girl.”

  “I warned you.”

  “You did.” He stares at the screen for a few moments. “Looks like we have a ton of work. What do you want to do first?”

  Outwardly, I don’t react to the fact he asked me my opinion. Yes, we’re partners, but he’s always been in charge of picking what we’re going to do in the Q-net. “Check our security measures.”

  “All right. Let’s get to it.”

  I insert my tangs. It doesn’t take us long to see Jarren’s been snooping around. The scary part is he didn’t set off a single one of our alarms.

  Has he altered any of our programs? Beau asks.

  Not for the cameras in the base, nor the ones in the satellite. I check the feeds for security. He’s hit these pretty hard. Oh no.

  He’s watching live feed in security now?

  Yes. He’s bypassed it.

  But you don’t show up in those feeds. Or has he found that special Q-net trick, too?

  Trick or no, the Q-net ensures I’m not visible in the security camera feeds. No. That’s still intact.

  That’s good. If he doesn’t see you, then he’ll question whether or not you’re alive. Might slow him down.

  Nice of you to try to make me feel better, but it’s too late for that, Beau. He called me Lyra and Ara. My worming style is too obvious. I focus on our next task. Are you ready to infiltrate enemy territory? I ask.

  How do you want to do this?

  Obviously without tipping Jarren off. On tiptoes, silent as the night, unseen, and—

  No more clichés please. I get it. So how’s your head? You know he’s going to be hiding behind some serious protection.

  Ah. Going snail speed is extra hard and I made a promise. We should probably take a break. Do you want to work on this after dinner?

  Is that enough time off?

  Should be.

  Ara, if we tip Jarren off that we know where he is, he’s coming straight for us. And we’re not ready for him yet.

  It’s enough time.

  Dinner is a strange affair. Everyone is sneaking glances at me. Well, they’re trying to be sneaky, but I notice. I don’t say anything, though. ’Cause that would just give them all permission to ask me how I’m feeling about Jarren. And truthfully, I’d rather not have that discussion. One of the ways to be good at denial is to not examine your emotions too deeply, but to rather focus on other things. Like Niall’s T-shirt and how it clings to his shoulders and chest.

  He catches me looking at him and I’m rewarded with one of his I-know-what-you’re-thinking smiles. I raise my eyebrows in a you’ve-no-idea-just-what-I’d-like-to-do manner. His eyes narrow in a I’d-like-to-see-you-try squint.

  Too bad Radcliff interrupts our silent communication by asking for an update on the security measures. I fill them in on what Beau and I found.

  “Any info on Jarren’s hideout?” Radcliff asks.

  “We’re going back in tonight. We needed a break,” I say, meeting Niall’s gaze.

  Universal approval. Wow, never thought that would happen.

  “Don’t stay up too late,” Mom says.

  I wonder if it’s an automatic Mom response. Do the words just pop out of her mouth?

  The rest of the dinner limps along with awkward small talk. Again, no one is brave enough to speculate what will happen if Jarren attacks. Although I suspect it’s one of the reasons my mother wished to have a talk with me.

  After dinner is cleaned up, my dad leaves to recruit volunteers to help with the base’s defenses. Niall washes dishes while Mom and I go to my room to have our chat.

  We sit on the edge of the bed, facing each other. If we wore the same clothes, I could almost imagine I’m staring into a mirror that reflects my future. Her silky black hair never stays confined in a braid, just like mine.

  “I’m be
ing careful,” I say.

  “You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

  “I figured that would cover all the bases.”

  She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Everything.”

  Oh no. She’s in panic mode. I know it doesn’t seem like she is, since she waited until now to freak out, but, think about it, I learned the fine art of denial from someone. “Mom—”

  “Don’t Mom me. Jarren killed you and the first thing he’s going to do is come after you. No. I won’t let it happen. You’re staying here.” She points a finger at the floor.

  “Are you grounding me?”

  “Yes. You’re not eighteen A-years. I’m still your legal guardian and what I say goes. You can only leave this room for meals and to use the washroom.”

  A snarky response—why don’t you just have Radcliff throw me in detention—wells up my throat. But I swallow it down. Logic is my only play. “Hiding won’t keep me safe, Mom. And while you can order me to stay here, you can’t enforce it.”

  “Tace will.”

  “No, he won’t. He needs me. Mom, everyone on this base needs me.” Huh. That’s a ton of pressure. Maybe staying in my room isn’t such a bad idea.

  “Then you’re coming home, Lyra. Back to your room in our unit. That door can be locked.”

  She used my real name. She’s really upset. This must have been building all day. “I can’t be seen.”

  “Yes, you can,” she snaps. “The cat is out of the bag, Lyra. Jarren knows. Besides…” Mom glances at her hands. They’re clutched tight together in her lap.

  “Besides, what?”

  “I’m tired of pretending you’re dead. Of ignoring the pitying looks. The awkward conversations. And there’s a few people who I thought were my friends that have been…avoiding me.”

  I’m a selfish idiot. I had no idea what she’s been going through and it didn’t even occur to me to ask. I’m also a self-absorbed idiot. Scooching closer, I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Is Dad having problems, too?”

  “I’m sure he’s getting the same response, but you know your father.”