“We can’t tote avalan across the Dome if we’re all injured or ill,” Saskia said, keeping a hand on his back to steady him.
“That’s why we have droids,” Tray said. “I can figure out the programming. I can. We’ll make it work.”
The stunner blasted against his side, and his mouth filled with blood. Tray hit the pavement face first, then felt a boot on his back.
“I told you not to make a peep, kid. Now you’re going to pay.”
“I agree with Tray on this,” Sky said.
“Me, too,” Amanda added. “There’s no need to rush into Quin. We’ll have troubles enough just getting me through the gate.”
“I vote leave,” Hawk spoke up. “This place is haunted.”
Danny looked past Tray to Saskia, then ducked his head. “I vote we leave. Captain breaks the tie.”
“No, owner breaks the tie!” Tray exclaimed, smacking the floor.
“Danny, who is going to fly the ship right now?” Sky asked. “There was a reason Amanda had the con before we landed, and she’s not getting behind the yoke again.”
“We’re not getting better by sitting around,” Danny pointed out.
“I will,” Sky said firmly. “You will, and Saskia. We get Skipper some pain management; we can get him up to 80 percent. Then whatever condition these two find themselves in come morning, we’ll at least have the four of us. Grav-drive, engine room, con, comms.”
“And what if there’s another quake?” Saskia challenged.
“We can set up Nolwazi to give us a little more warning,” Tray suggested.
“Sensors around the grav-drive are sensitive enough,” Sky agreed. “We just have to set the trigger. On the beach, we could detect the water lapping against the shore.”
Tray’s face hit the dirt, and he felt pressure against his wrists as his hands were bound. His body hit the frozen floor of the meat locker and his captor kicked him.
Tray laid his head on Saskia’s chest, tears streaming down his cheek.
“Where does it hurt?” she whispered, cradling his head. “We’re going to lie down. Stay with me.”
His body quaked, the memory repeating over and over. He didn’t hear any more of the conversation. He just felt the death of joy as Veora said good-bye and his attacker moved in.
10
Day 35
My dear Myung,
We’ve been five days in Boone now. There are signs of ghosts everywhere, but Tray will not tell me what they say. I see shadows move and faces in windows. Sky tells me that I am lonely and tired. She is not wrong. Amanda sees them, too. She says they talk about us—how ragged and sickly we’ve become and how my pink hair has faded to white.
The days have been long and the work hard. Fortunately, there have been no new tremors since the first. The robots have been able to patch most of the ship’s holes. There are metal particles in the avalan that improve the seal of the material to the ship. The avalan is astounding. Sky says it forms naturally in the ground in these hills. The trees grow out of it in places, and when it rains, it looks like the hills are bleeding.
Three days ago, we were excited to test the new skin on the hull, but Saskia told us that we did not have enough fuel left to do a test. Our next hop will be our last. She and the Captain have known for a while, but they didn’t want to discourage us while we broke our backs hauling avalan from the quarry. Sky assures us that with continued diligence, the lack of fuel will be irrelevant, and although I believe her, I think we should have tried to leave by now. Even the Captain is growing discouraged. I fear we will soon become ghosts of Boone ourselves.
Love,
Papa
The bell tower was built as the centerpiece of downtown Boone, but every few decades, the elitists moved the ‘center’ of town about two blocks to the east, so they could escape the over-running riffraff. When they hit the Dome wall, the elitists moved the town center back to the clock tower and the cycle started anew. With the elitists obliterated, the only record of Boone’s social caste system was in Kerris’ memory, and he had only a child’s impression of it.
When he was seven, his father brought him to the bell tower and let him watch the bell ringer play the evening chimes. In his impatience to have a turn, Kerris pulled a few strings and ruined the song. It was the first time he’d ever used his spirit hands, even though he’d been told for years that he had them. Sometimes, he wondered if his father had brought him here to trick him into using the ability. To test him. Because two days later, they introduced him to the Panoptica, and his training began.
The bell tower rattled and Kerris hurried to the balcony. “That wasn’t me!”
Liza jumped out of her chair, her eyes glazed with fear. “Was it them?” she asked, tripping over her bare feet and stumbling toward the low railing.
“Easy,” he said, catching her wrists, sitting her down again. He put her ankle on his knee, checking the wrap on her foot. She’d never come to the bell tower when the chimes were here. She’d never met another Panoptica in person; she’d only spoken to them in her mind.
“I think I finally healed it,” Liza said, wriggling her toes, then rotating her foot. She didn’t want to people-watch, but she’d come along because she didn’t want him to be alone.
“They linger. One day bleeds into another,” he complained, going to the rail and spying on the visitors. “Maybe if I shake some buildings, I can convince them to pick up their pace.”
“They ask the droids about the city and the droids answer. They’re bringing the place to life, almost,” she said, leaning back on her elbows and closing her eyes, the tension in her body easing.
“Let’s hope the bots don’t gossip about a shoeless girl who has been wandering around the city recently,” he teased, tapping her toes with his. He could feel the physical pull on his strength as she tried to block out the emotions of the visitors. A smile played across her lips.
“Are you dreaming of living in a city?” he asked.
“About sleeping in a bed,” she replied. “With the fancy one.”
“Ah, Mr. Blue Abell,” Kerris teased. There was a man among the expedition who always wore blue, and dressed more refined than the others. Kerris jokingly referred to him as Liza’s future husband, and she seemed to feed off the thought rather than be embarrassed by it. Liza’s features softened, and Kerris turned back to spy on the visitors. He didn’t want to share in his sister’s fantasy.
“He just walked in,” Kerris told her, seeing Blue and Soldier enter together. Liza had overheard their true names in the memories they left behind, but Kerris preferred his own nicknames. Soldier and Blue were a sweet couple, and their relationship was obviously new. They reminded Kerris of his wife and he watched wistfully as long as he could, yearning to experience that kind of connection again.
Soldier’s fingers brushed against Blue’s and Liza let out a short giggle.
Kerris frowned. “You’re supposed to be shielding yourself. You felt that touch?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Liza pouted, rubbing the backs of her knuckles. “I was in my own fantasy. It’s probably a coincidence.”
“Have you ever seen Blue outside of your own head?” Kerris asked, pursing his lips, studying his sister.
“Not since the first day, when he was still clean,” she said, drumming her belly, her head moving side-to-side as though she were hearing a song.
“They’ve definitely roughed up since then,” Kerris agreed, leaning on the railing. “Except Soldier. She’s always clean cut.”
Liza swung her legs, using the momentum to rise to her feet and get a look at her Blue. “Are they holding hands?” she asked, jealousy staining her voice.
“Getting closer every day,” he sighed, his finger brushing against his tattoo.
“Ew,” Liza whimpered, stumbling back from the railing, grabbing his elbow as she tripped and fell backward. “Ew, ew, ew!”
“What?” Kerris asked, slowing her fall. The way she rolled on the ground r
eminded him of one of Amanda’s schizophrenic fits. They’d witnessed more than one over the past week.
“Oh, gross. Gross!” Liza whined, her voice getting shrill. “He loves her.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have fantasies about him,” Kerris laughed, pinning her down with his mind. “Liza, come on.”
“No, I don’t—it’s not my fantasy, is it?” she asked, giving him a push, but staying on the ground. “Ew. I’m feeling their fantasies for each other! Can’t I have one thought of my own?”
“Why would you feel them and no one else?” Kerris asked, letting her sit.
Liza took a few deep breaths, rubbing her face, digesting her latest realization. “I don’t feel ‘no one else.’ I was lying,” she confessed. “Every time Red upchucks, I feel it in my gut. I’m working so hard not to feel schizophrenic all the time, other things just seep in.”
She looked up helplessly, sweat glistening on her face. Then she crawled to the railing and sighed longingly. “Oh, why, my fancy man? Why did I look?”
“Come on, Liza,” Kerris chuckled, massaging her shoulders. “I’m sure some of that crush is coming from inside you. He’s very much your type.”
“Oh, ew,” she whined, shrugging him off.
“Liza, breathe deep,” Kerris coached, feeling the air stir from his own nervousness. “Count your toes.”
She whimpered and rolled to her side, dry heaving, then curling into a ball. Kerris realized that the rest of the expedition had entered, including the perpetually ill man they called Red, because of his formerly red hair. Blue had moved away from Soldier and he kept shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Kerris called the older brother Olive, because if he wore anything that wasn’t khaki, it was a drab, olive green.
Kerris’ eyes were always drawn to the tall, blonde—the one the bots called Aurelia. A Xentu. She’d lived in Boone and she’d survived the destruction. He had so many questions for her.
“What do you mean, my type?” Liza asked, interrupting his thoughts, burrowing under his arm.
Kerris smiled and ruffled her ginger waves. The expedition had moved toward the avalan quarry again. They didn’t just use it to patch their ship. Aurelia knew how to use it on their propulsion system. She knew Xentu technology.
“It means you’re attracted to fancy people in shiny clothes,” Kerris explained, pulling her in front of him so he could embrace her while they watched together. “Like the Lansing jeweler, or the Ennox weaver, and that… well, I guess the Dioda warrior doesn’t fit the mold.”
“I liked the beads in his hair. He was colorful,” she said wistfully. “Hey, look, they have comms.”
“You’re just noticing?” Kerris asked. She seemed to know so much about them, but today she looked with her eyes instead of her mind. “You never had a comm of your own, did you?”
“I had mom’s old one for games,” Liza sniffled, alternately peeking at the visitors and hiding her face on his sleeve.
“I want one,” Kerris said, reaching out his hand, testing to see if he could nudge one loose. He still wasn’t a good pickpocket, but they didn’t know he was here.
You don’t need one.
Kerris rolled his eyes. It took him a moment to realize she’d spoken the words directly into his mind rather than using verbal communication.
“Maybe I want one for games,” he teased. Sighing, he used his mind to nudge open the gate so that he could look out at the ship. “There’s so few of them. They’re not a whole tribe, and they aren’t scouts. They have to have come from some place amazing.”
Reaching out with his mind, he touched the edge of the ship, pushing a dangling hull tile into place.
“Don’t do that,” Liza reprimanded, giving him a swift kick in the shin. “If things start moving around, they’ll know we’re here.”
“How?”
“Because they’re like us,” she intoned.
Kerris winced at the rush of fear that came with her revelation—her fear. Liza weaseled out of his arms and dropped into her chair, burying her face in her hands.
“Like you or like me?” Kerris asked, sitting down. He ached for her, but he couldn’t touch what hurt.
“I don’t know. But that girl trapped me in her mind. I was so lost. I was so scared,” she blubbered, bursting into tears. “It would be so wonderful to meet them, but… I don’t know what she can do to me, and I’m scared.”
“No divorced bananas on our summer boat trip!” Amanda sang, feeling joy at the memory of the tune, despite the confusing lyrics. She skipped past the others, her trench coat flaring behind her like a cape. It was often too hot for the jacket, but when she started losing her sanity, the heat brought her comfort. Sky had rinsed her hair with flower oils, smoothing the brown hair enough to get into a ponytail without looking like a tangled mess.
“What are you saying? Are you just picking random words?” Danny criticized. He wore long sleeves and gloves to protect his sun-bronzed skin. Every day, the slump in his shoulders became more pronounced.
“High winds, high heat, high tide,” Tray sang, laughing as he fed her the next line in the song. He played songs and flickers that she recognized, and the familiarity of the stories kept her grounded. Tray had braided his long, black hair into cornrows, but that didn’t stop a few unruly curls from frizzing around his face. He was getting less meticulous about shaving, but his beard grew more slowly than Danny’s, and it barely shaded his cheeks.
“We’re in for a ride,” Amanda smiled, finishing the chorus.
Tray’s cheeks flushed with the nervousness that overcame him when Saskia came into view. Over her black uniform tunic, Saskia wore a military vest that probably hadn’t seen daylight since the Revolution. Amanda hadn’t paid attention when they were at the table that morning—Saskia often wore black tank tops—but out here, Amanda recognized the full Guard uniform and stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand closed around the hunting knife sheathed at her thigh as her heart pounded and her mind dropped back to the early days of the Revolution when the Guard ruthlessly hunted her and her family.
“This is your punishment for nullifying the vote to leave. Again,” Sky teased Danny, slapping him on the back. Hearing Sky’s voice brought a schism to Amanda’s reality. She was in the past and the present.
“You nullified that option the moment you switched from patching the hull to gutting our thrusters to focus the grav-energy,” Danny retorted.
Amanda felt his hand on her wrist, and he squeezed until she released the knife. Her breath quickening, Amanda activated her Occ, scanning for danger. Her eyes went to the bell tower, and though she sensed someone watching, she didn’t see anyone. There was no armada of Guard lying in wait.
“Go back to the ship if you need to,” Danny whispered.
“No. It’s worse to be alone,” Amanda said, shaking her head. She moved to sheathe her knife only to find her hand empty. Physically, she was stronger and healthier than ever. Mentally… even she didn’t know the full extent of what she’d lost. “I just realized… Saskia’s uniform. She’s wearing a Guard uniform.”
“Freaked me out, too,” Danny confessed, glancing at Saskia, then dropping his gaze to the ground, walking faster. “I mean, I knew she had it, but I didn’t expect… Just knowing what it stands for—every bone the Guard ever broke aches a little.”
“She wore it the day of the October Massacre,” Amanda said.
“I was in the crowd that day,” Danny said. “I saw the assassin with a projectile. A gun. I’d never seen a gun before. I’d never even held a weapon. After that day, I always had a knife, a pulse rifle, something. I learned to fight. I became someone different. “
Their hands clasped. He didn’t talk to the others about the Revolution. Tray hadn’t been there and Saskia had fought for the Nationals. However sporadic Amanda’s memories were, at least she understood, and she felt honored that he’d talk to her.
“Do you remember who I was before that day?” she asked.
&nbs
p; “Well, you weren’t a singer. That much is certain,” he smiled, bumping her shoulder “You also didn’t speak Lanvarian.”
“My parents are Lanvarian. Of course I speak it,” Amanda smirked, bumping him back.
“You don’t even speak the same dialect as they did,” he shrugged, his eyes lifting again, his strength returning with the connection they shared. “You understood the Drava better than you understand me. I have this theory that you learned to speak it in Elysia.”
“Held prisoner on the brink of starvation, I decided to pickup a new language,” Amanda huffed. She’d never questioned her understanding of the Drava dialect; she’d just been happy to find something useful in her memory.
“It’s not a perfect theory. But it would explain divorced bananas,” Danny shrugged. “You know the Terranan version of the song”
“I remember the Terranan version of the lyrics?” Amanda asked.
“But force the sound into a Lanvarian word,” Danny suggested.
Amanda murmured the lyrics, frustrated. Then she closed her eyes and mentally switched languages, letting the sounds become Terranan instead of Lanvarian. The calm waters reflect the glow of double moons…
She couldn’t recall all the words, but the ones that came back made more sense to her.
“It’s just a theory,” Danny said, thumbing tears from her eyes.
Amanda nodded. “I know. I’m happy. Happy tears. I remember the song.”
They stopped at the quarry, and Danny paused, taking a breath, bracing himself for the work ahead.
“Captain!” Hawk called, pushing a three-foot tall bot over to them. “This one has power.”
He spoke in Trade, but Amanda’s Feather interpreted a few seconds behind.
“You are a mechanical wizard, Hawk,” Danny said, forcing a smile. Hawk was encouraged, but Amanda could see the falseness behind Danny’s sentiment. “Tray, we have another helper!”
“Great,” Tray said, pulling his Virp from the protective sleeve in his back pocket. “You all get started. When I have this thing synced to a Virp, I’ll catch up.”
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 9
