by Caryn Lix
Predictably, Mia didn’t take the news very well, shouting and ranting until Alexei quietly asked, “Would you rather bring the aliens here?”
That shut her up. Because even Mia, with all her bravado, knew better. At Alexei’s words, a stillness settled over us as everyone relived the horror of those moments on Sanctuary: tails slithering, claws lashing, speed and blood and the high, hissing rattle that meant you’d been found.
No. We couldn’t go through that again. And we certainly couldn’t bring them to Earth.
But that didn’t make anyone happy with our choices.
The hours following Rune’s discovery passed in a blur of action, Cage insisting on speed. “We need to move fast,” he said. “Not give anyone too much time to think.” As usual, he was right about that stuff. People fell into line out of simple relief that someone else was taking charge, and no one asked too many questions. Cage was always able to predict how the others would react. It was only me he couldn’t seem to figure out.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered now. He leaned against the console, fists braced on its edge, as if the symbols in front of him might start to resolve into English, or maybe just helpfully tell him what they said.
“That makes two of us.” Mia unfolded herself from where she leaned against the doorframe. “You guys sure?”
I nodded and met her eyes, searching for stability, reliability, something to trust. “We’re counting on you if things go bad.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She strung her fingers together and cracked her hands, rolling her shoulders. A shiver of fear raced through me. Given the chance for freedom, would Mia return to rescue us? After a few weeks with the girl, I still didn’t get her. She seemed loyal to Cage and Alexei, but she also hated confinement more than anyone I’d ever known. If she got a taste of freedom, could I even blame her if she didn’t risk recapture to save our skins?
I looked from person to person, hoping for another plan to materialize, preferably one that relied less on Mia’s altruism. Nothing came to mind. I glanced at Cage, but he obviously didn’t share my concerns. He’d trusted Mia from day one. I sighed. I didn’t have much choice but to trust her too. “Everyone’s okay with the plan?”
Reed ducked into the room behind Mia, a grin playing on his lips. “You mean your batshit idea where you walk into the arms of interstellar law enforcement? Not sure I’d call that a plan. And ‘okay’ might be a bit strong. Do you have any idea—?”
“Reed,” said Cage dryly, “if anyone knows what we’re getting ourselves into, it’s Kenzie.”
Well, he was right about that. I’d grown up in Omnistellar’s ranks, and I knew the company inside and out. It didn’t take failure lightly. Traitors were quietly executed. Or maybe not that quietly, because the details always seemed to circulate. Mom and Dad chalked that up to corporate leaks, but Omnistellar definitely wouldn’t let information disperse if they wanted it blocked. Mom and Dad had to have known that, too. Something else they’d lied about.
Regardless, Omnistellar had a formidable reputation for efficiency and ruthlessness. Not even Mars Mining Incorporated, a pretty lax corporation in the grand scheme of things, would risk their wrath. We were taking on the biggest, best-organized corporation in the solar system. My corporation. My former family. The place I’d thought I’d spend my life.
But what was the alternative? Lead a horde of vicious aliens to Earth? I squared my shoulders, meeting everyone’s gaze in turn. “Get in position,” I ordered.
Reed backed through the door, but Mia hesitated. “Not too late to send Rune with us,” she pointed out.
Cage winced. Mia had hit his weak spot. But before he answered, Rune spoke, determination lacing her voice. “No one else can land this thing, and I’m not going to risk everyone else’s escape for my own safety. I’m not a child, Mia. I can take care of myself.”
Mia and Cage simultaneously exchanged glances calling that statement into question, but I shot her a quick smile over the console. Rune and I had worked together nonstop for the last twenty days, and I’d come to appreciate the independent core she usually kept hidden. Rune could take care of herself. She’d just never been given a chance to prove it.
Cage and Mia, of course, might never see it that way. But it didn’t matter: Rune was the only one who could land the ship. We didn’t have time to get her to safety once we touched down. Bad enough that the three of us were marching into enemy hands; no point risking the rest of our crew. Besides, we needed people on the outside if things went wrong.
That must have settled the matter, because Mia gave a slight nod and left us on our own. Cage, Rune, and I inspected one another, Rune apparently forgetting to be angry at her twin in the heat of the moment. “All right,” I said. “Are we doing this?”
Cage flashed me that smile of his, the all-teeth one that simultaneously gave him a dangerously wolfish edge and made me go weak in the knees. “No sense delaying,” he said. I found myself smiling in return. I loved this about Cage, this willingness to plunge headfirst into whatever ridiculous scheme he’d concocted, so bizarre to my strict Omnistellar upbringing. His everyday was my forbidden. In this moment, we could almost have been on Sanctuary again, fighting side by side in a last-ditch attempt for survival. All we’d been through together—huddling under the bed, clutching each other for safety, saving each other’s lives—all of it losing the edge of panic and taking on an almost romantic allure until more painful memories intruded.
Claws hoisting Cage in the air, hurling him across the room.
The gun bucking in my hand, Matt’s scream in the distance.
Standing in total silence, trembling with effort, as aliens prowled a heartbeat away.
Rune cleared her throat. “Kenzie,” she said.
Right. The plan. I shook off the memories of Sanctuary. Some of my Omnistellar lessons needed reinforcing. If we wanted to survive, I had to stop letting the aliens terrorize me from beyond the grave. We might have vented them off their own ship, but that hadn’t exorcised them from my mind.
Rune and I approached the console. She closed her eyes, focusing, and plunged her arms elbow deep in electronics. Her shoulders relaxed as she melded with the circuitry, which she always seemed to embrace like a long-lost friend.
“Found comms,” she announced after a moment. “Kenzie, you ready? I’m going to put it on speaker because that’s all I know how to do. Cage, once I do, keep your mouth shut. Kenzie knows the protocols. You don’t.”
I looked over my shoulder in time to see him blink back an expression of mingled surprise and hurt, but he only muttered, “Understood.”
A moment later a voice cut through the room as clearly as if its owner stood beside us. We had no visuals, which felt strange and wrong for ground-to-ship communications, and would definitely set off warning bells on Mars if their sensors weren’t already going crazy.
“Unidentified spacecraft,” came a sharp male voice with an unfamiliar accent. “You are in the space of Mars Mining Incorporated and approaching weapons range. If you do not identify yourselves at once, we’ll be forced to open fire.”
“Please don’t do that,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. But as I’d recently learned, I was pretty good at submerging my anxiety and fear until they were a gnawing, raging monster in the pit of my belly, completely invisible to anyone on the surface. “My name is Kenzie Cord, and until a few weeks ago, I was a citizen of Omnistellar Concepts. I can hold my position while you look it up.”
A few seconds passed before he spoke again, this time with a touch of suspicion. “Kenzie Cord. You’re listed as deceased, you know that?”
“I’m not surprised. I was on the space prison Sanctuary, which was destroyed last month.”
“Yeah, it’s all over the network at the moment,” he agreed, sarcasm creeping into his tone. “And here you are drifting into my space in . . . what the hell is that thing?”
“That thing is the reason we
’re here,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice mild. “I’m on board with the Hu twins, former prisoners on Sanctuary. The three of us escaped before the prison was destroyed, and we stole an alien ship to—”
“I’m sorry, you’re going to need to repeat that. Did you say an alien ship?”
I closed my eyes and ground my teeth. “Look, do you want us to turn ourselves in or not?”
A long pause followed. “Yeah,” came the voice at last. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. Somehow, I don’t think you’re offering unconditional surrender, though.”
“You’re right about that. We have one condition, and one only: after you have us in custody, you destroy this ship. If you don’t have the authority to make that deal, connect me to someone who does.”
Another long pause as he considered. I glanced at Cage, who shrugged. Impossible to tell if my negotiations were working. Maybe we should have let Cage do the talking. But his charisma tended to vanish when dealing with authority figures, and belligerence wouldn’t get us anywhere.
When the voice returned, it had shed its lackadaisical tone. “Now why would I agree to something like that? You’re flying around in what you claim is an alien ship, something the likes of which we’ve never seen before. Do you have any idea how much that thing is worth to the scientific community? Not to mention the price it’d fetch on the open market.”
“I’m not asking for my own entertainment,” I growled. “Right now, this ship is broadcasting a signal to what may be an alien fleet. Those creatures are terrifying and deadly. They can rip you and your armor to shreds, and you do not want them descending on Mars. If you give me your word you’ll destroy this ship, we’ll turn ourselves in. Otherwise, well . . . I’m sure we can find another corporation willing to deal.”
The man sighed. “Give me a minute to verify what you’re saying.” He disconnected the signal, and I flew into action, pacing the confined space.
“You sure we can trust him, even if he agrees?” asked Rune dubiously. “He doesn’t seem like the most—”
“I’m not sure of anything,” I snapped, then raised my hand in apology as she frowned. “Sorry. I know this is a risk. But our options are limited. It’s Mars Mining, the criminal underground, or Omnistellar Concepts. The criminal underground will almost certainly steal the ship out from under us and turn us in if they don’t kill us, and I have no idea what Omnistellar will do anymore.” Whatever it was, it wouldn’t give anyone else the chance to escape. I’d lied and said there were only three of us on board, hoping Rune’s confidence in the ship’s shielding was justified. “Mars Mining is our best—”
“All right, Kenzie,” the man’s voice interrupted me, and I winced, shooting an accusing glance at Rune. She’d left the channel open? Hopefully I hadn’t said anything incriminating. “Land that ship, turn yourselves in, and we’ll blow it into dust.”
My throat constricted. I swallowed around the sudden lump and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“I’m trying to send you landing coordinates, but the message doesn’t seem to be going through.”
“Yeah, we’re dealing with an unfamiliar system here. You’ll have to tell us verbally.”
The man sighed as if I’d deliberately used alien technology to annoy him, but he did give us the information. Rune nodded, confirming she was locked onto the landing zone, and we cut the comms.
We had absolutely no idea what to expect when this ship landed. We’d already warned the other twenty-one survivors of Sanctuary to lock in and hold tight. Once we reached the surface, they’d be in Alexei’s and Mia’s hands. If Mars Mining broke their word, hopefully Mia would rally some of them to our aid. I didn’t kid myself. Most of them would make a break for it, and I couldn’t blame them.
“Okay, here we go,” said Rune. Cage moved to a corner and readied himself as best he could, since the ship didn’t seem to have straps or belts or anything that might actually keep us safe in the event of a rough landing. We were taking a lot on faith and relying pretty heavily on Rune’s power. Who knew if this ship was even designed to break atmosphere? Then again, if it crashed in the landing and took all of us with it, I guess I didn’t have to worry about the aliens tracking our signal.
I closed my eyes and braced myself, ready to interpret any information Rune couldn’t glean directly from the AI. My hands trembled, and I locked them around the console’s edge to hide my fear. I had to hold things together. Rune and Cage relied on my knowledge and experience. If I let them see how terrified I was, all the possible ways this might blow up in our faces, they might back down. And that wasn’t an option. Not if we wanted to save Earth. Not for the first time, I wished for my commanding officer, my mom, to tell me what to do. But there was no one else. Just me and my friends and the weight of the solar system on our shoulders.
Rune glanced at me and Cage. Cage looked like he wanted to say something, whether to her or me I wasn’t sure. I locked eyes with him and silently willed him to speak. To explain. To say something to restore the feeling on Sanctuary when he’d taken me in his arms, that split second when I’d been completely safe and protected.
But he only bit his lip and smiled, and Rune and I returned to the console. She glanced at me and tilted her head. “Okay. Here we go.” Squaring her shoulders, she plunged her arms into the circuitry.
The entire room lurched, driving Rune and me forward. Her chin smashed against the panel, but she didn’t open her eyes, didn’t even squeak in pain as blood trickled from the corner of her lips. I threw my hands up to brace myself, narrowly avoiding a similar injury.
The ship heaved violently, information spasming against my fingers in protest. This ship was obviously not designed to land. I didn’t know much about the aliens. I’d gathered that they did have some sort of homeworld, but the way this thing protested, it had never breached atmosphere before.
Once more the ship tipped and heaved, like it was trying to expel us into space. Rune’s face slammed into the console again. With her arms sunk into the electronics, she couldn’t protect herself. I wasn’t sure she even felt her injuries. Throwing caution to the wind, I jumped toward her. At the same moment the ship jerked and twisted, pitching us to a forty-five-degree angle. I caught the edge of the console to keep from plummeting backward and dragged myself toward Rune, my fingers curling and my booted feet scrambling for purchase.
“Kenzie, hang on!” Cage shouted. “I’m coming over there!”
“No! Stay where you are! Another person flying around the room won’t help!”
I reached Rune just as the ship gave a massive shudder. Wrapping my arms around her, I tried to simultaneously protect her face from any more impacts and lock us in place, preventing the ship from bucking us across the room.
“Kenzie!” Cage roared. I turned toward him, but the ship pitched, and it took all my energy to hold Rune. “What’s happening?”
“She’s okay!” I called. “Are you?”
“Hanging on! Are we going to make it?”
I shook my head, knowing he couldn’t see me. I didn’t have the time or focus to interpret the alien language right now. Rune was too far immersed in the system to answer questions, and we had no windows to see outside. I had exactly as much information as Cage.
The ship’s spin increased in speed, giving me the sense of being on a sickening VR carnival ride. I tightened my grip on Rune as the centrifugal force threatened to tear us apart. At least she wasn’t in danger of hitting her face again, but the combined force of the ship’s spiral and my hold might dislocate her shoulders. I managed to shift my grip to her middle. I wasn’t even protecting her anymore, merely holding on for dear life, because at this point, if I let go, I would smash headfirst into a wall.
As suddenly as it had started, the ship ground to a halt. Rune flew forward and took me with her. Just in time, I jerked my hands around her so her head collided with my palms instead of the console. Pain shot through me at the impact, and the recoil threw me to my knees.
I braced for the next assault, but we weren’t moving.
And neither was Rune.
FOUR
“RUNE!” I SHOUTED. CAGE WAS at my side in an instant. Rune slumped over the console. Together, Cage and I half lifted her, but her arms remained embedded in the circuitry. I pulled on her waist, but I didn’t see any give, and I was afraid I’d hurt her if I kept tugging. She threw her head back against my shoulder and moaned around a mouthful of blood.
“Rune,” I repeated, this time in relief. She was alive. “Can you hear me?”
“Meimei.” Cage caught her chin and gently turned her face, examining her for injuries. “Open your eyes.”
She groaned, louder this time, and shifted, taking her own weight. As her eyes fluttered open, a familiar voice crackled over the comms, that obnoxious sarcastic inflection back in place: “That was quite the landing.”
Lord, give me strength. “Strangely enough, our alien ship didn’t come with an instruction manual. Our deal still in place?”
“Affirmative. You surrender yourselves and we destroy your ship. I’m sending an armed contingent to meet you now. I don’t suppose I have to tell you they’re prepared to use lethal force if you deviate from our arrangement?”
“I assumed as much.” The other corporations might not have Omnistellar’s total dedication to the idea of anomalies as monsters, but no one in the solar system viewed us with much trust.
