by Kass Morgan
“How do we want to do this?” Vesper asked, speaking for the first time since they’d entered the simulcraft, her ardent desire to avoid contact with Ward and Cormak overpowered by her even more ardent desire to succeed in the exercise. “Anyone mind if I pilot? Okay, great,” she said, sliding into the pilot’s seat without waiting for an answer.
“Just like the olden days,” Ward said with a grin as he leaned back in the captain’s chair, hands clasped behind his head. “Right, Vee?” She didn’t respond, but Ward’s words alone were enough to turn Cormak’s stomach. He knew they’d been on the same squadron back at their Tridian prep school.
“Who wants to be captain?” Cormak asked lightly, as if he couldn’t see Ward settling into the captain’s chair. “Belsa?”
She glanced at Ward, then sighed. “I’m fine with tech officer,” she said with the weary air of someone too tired to fight.
“Are you sure? Because now that Ward’s had time to rest, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind moving into one of the other seats.”
“You heard her, Phobos.” An edge had crept into Ward’s voice. “She wants to do tech, which means you’re the counterintelligence officer. Don’t let the name intimidate you, though. It doesn’t require that much more brainpower than you seem to possess.”
“Is that so?” Cormak pretended to scratch his head thoughtfully. “Remind me again whose squadron won the tournament and whose came in fourteenth?”
“Will you two cut it out?” Vesper snapped without turning around. “We’re running out of time.”
“I’m not the only one still standing. It’s Phobos here who seems to be gunning for a fight. Not exactly captain temperament, is it?” Ward lowered his voice slightly. “I’d choose your battles very carefully if I were you.”
The lights in the simulcraft cabin darkened and images began to flash on the screen. “Fine,” Cormak said as he lowered himself into the counterintelligence officer’s chair. It’s never going to stop, he realized. That shithead is going to keep blackmailing me to get whatever the hell he wants.
A map of the solar system appeared on the screen, then zoomed in on Deva. “A fleet of Specter ships is approaching the solar system, and the southern hemisphere of Deva appears to be their target. Your mission: Evacuate a group of stranded miners from the Shotwell Barrens before the first missile hits. You have twelve minutes to complete your objective. Commence mission.”
“Stranded miners?” Ward scoffed. “Seems like an awful lot of effort to rescue some people no one would miss.”
Belsa scowled at him over her shoulder. “I know you think you’re being funny, but you really just sound like an idiot.”
“What? I’m being serious.”
“First off, their lives matter just as much as yours. And what do you mean no one would miss them? What about their families?”
“I meant that if the Specters were really twelve minutes away from attacking Deva, we’d have to make some hard choices about who we evacuate. Any Quatran death is a tragedy, of course. But if, Antares forbid, there is a series of massive strikes, we have to think about who’ll be most essential when we rebuild, and frankly, miners aren’t going to be at the top of the list.”
“So the fyron we need will just magically appear out of the ground?” Belsa said.
“I’m not saying we won’t need miners. I’m just saying that we don’t necessarily need those miners in particular. It’s a job anyone can be trained to do. Listen, it’d be awful to have the Specters blow up a bunch of miners, but the truth is, they’re replaceable.”
Rage was bubbling so fiercely in Cormak’s chest, he felt his whole body trembling. But he willed himself not to take the bait. Ward was only saying this shit in an attempt to make him snap, and Cormak sure as hell wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. He refused to let himself look foolish in front of a Tridian ever again, no matter what.
“Why are you just standing here?” Cormak was so sure the girl had to be talking to someone else, he actually looked over his shoulder.
“I’m talking to you,” she said with a laugh that, while not entirely kind, wasn’t exactly unkind. She looked to be about eight, so maybe a year younger than he was, but she had the assurance of someone much older. They always did, these Tridian girls. Even if she hadn’t spoken, he would’ve known she wasn’t a Settler. Her long, glossy hair suggested frequent washing, which required access to more water than anyone he knew had. Even more telling, her fingers were free of the red dust that gathered under the nails of even the most fastidious Devaks. That’s why he was so surprised that she seemed to be addressing him. Most Tridians acted as if looking at a Devak would be enough to contaminate them. “Are you waiting for your parents?”
Cormak shook his head. His mother had died when he was a baby and his father wouldn’t be able to leave the mine for hours. “I’m here by myself.”
She cocked her head to the side and surveyed him curiously. “Then why aren’t you going inside?” They were in the metrocenter—an enormous building in the middle of the sector that contained trading stalls, an amphitheater, and a large multipurpose hall that housed a number of events throughout the year. At the moment, it contained the traveling zoo that arrived on Deva every so often. There was no way Cormak could afford a ticket, but he’d come anyway, hoping that a careless visitor might accidentally drop one.
“I don’t have a ticket,” he said.
“They’re selling them right there.” The girl pointed. “You can just go get one.”
“I don’t have the money,” he said simply, without shame. He didn’t know many people who could afford such a luxury.
She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized him as if convinced he was playing some trick on her. “Why didn’t you ask your parents for money before you came here?”
Now it was Cormak’s turn to stare at her disbelievingly. “My father doesn’t have ten credits just lying around. And if he did, he’d have more important things to spend them on.”
“So you’re poor?” the girl asked.
Cormak shrugged. He’d never really thought about it that way. On Deva, there were a few people who lived in nice houses full of plants and books. And then there was everyone else, people like him who lived in the towers and were never quite sure how they’d pay the next month’s rent.
“I can buy your ticket, if you’d like.”
“Really?” Cormak said as excitement bubbled inside him. “Your parents won’t mind?”
“They’re not here. I came with Roos.” She pointed at an attendant waiting in the ticket line. “I’ll tell her to buy you one,” the girl said as she pressed a button on her link.
“Thanks! I’m Cormak, by the way.”
“I’m Ada.” She extended her arm, then let it fall to her side. She’d either remembered that Devaks didn’t normally shake hands, or else she had second thoughts about touching Cormak. He didn’t care which it was. How could he be upset when he was about to go to the zoo? He’d only ever seen a few animals in real life: sand lizards—one of the only species native to Deva and capable of breathing its toxic air—and a cat he’d once seen a Tridian carrying through the launchport.
Roos glided over to them with the tickets. “Here’s one for you, Ada, and one for your little friend.”
Cormak stared at her in wonder. He’d seen attendants before, of course, but never one who spoke like a real person. “Thank you very much,” he said, hoping that was the right thing to do.
Ada shot him a strange look but didn’t comment on the fact that he’d thanked the attendant. He followed her to the entrance, doing his best to walk normally instead of bouncing up and down with excitement. The guard smiled at Ada, didn’t acknowledge Roos, and frowned slightly at Cormak, which was pretty typical, in Cormak’s experience. If he’d had the money for a ticket and tried to enter the zoo on his own, the guard still would’ve interrogated him—asking him where he’d gotten the money, scrutinizing the ticket to ensure that it wasn’t counterfeit, then k
eeping a close eye on Cormak… if he let him in at all. But with Ada, it was different. Easy.
“Whoa…” Cormak whispered as they stepped inside. The air was cooler in here, no doubt for the animals, who weren’t accustomed to the climate on Deva. It was also humid, something he’d never felt before, growing up on a planet where it never rained. He took a deep breath, relishing the way the air felt going down into his lungs.
He let Ada lead the way and followed her to the first enclosure, where an enormous pink bird was wading through a turquoise pool. Every few seconds, it’d lower its curved orange beak to scoop a gleaming silver fish out of the water. Cormak watched, mesmerized, transfixed by the bird’s elegant movements, its shockingly bright feathers, and the squirm of the wriggling fish. “This is boring. Let’s find something else,” Ada said, tugging on Cormak’s sleeve. He didn’t look to see if she wiped her hands on her pants afterward.
“Do you think he’s lonely?” Cormak asked as they walked away.
“Who?”
“The bird. He was all by himself. But the books I’ve read say that birds travel in flocks.”
Ada ignored his question and pulled him over to a tank where an enormous red-feathered snake was coiling itself along a tree branch, but even this didn’t hold her attention for long. Yet despite the frantic pace set by his companion, Cormak had the best afternoon of his life. At one point, Ada told him to stop smiling so much because it made him look weird, but he found he couldn’t. Not when there were so many amazing animals to see!
As they finished the ice pops Ada bought them, Roos said: “I’ve received a message from your mother, Ada. She wants us to go home now.”
Ada rolled her eyes but obligingly tossed her half-eaten ice pop into the garbage. Cormak winced and wished she’d offered it to him first. “You can stay longer, if you want,” she said.
“Okay.” He hoped this was true, and that the guard wouldn’t come find him when Ada left. “Should I give you my ping code?”
She looked slightly affronted. “Why?”
“So we can play together sometime,” Cormak said.
Ada laughed. “We can’t play together.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she said in the same tone Cormak’s teacher used when she wanted to make him feel stupid—which was most of the time. “My mother would never let someone like you into our house, and I’d never want to visit yours.”
“I don’t understand. We had fun today, didn’t we?”
“Oh, definitely.” She gave him what she probably imagined to be a kind smile. “But that doesn’t mean we could ever be friends. Goodbye, Cormak.”
And with that, she left without another word. Looking back, Cormak always thought he could picture Roos giving him a slightly pitying look as she passed, but that was impossible.
Robots didn’t care for Settlers any more than Tridians did.
“Will everyone shut up and pay attention?” Vesper called without turning around. “We’re going in.”
Cormak glanced up to see his rust-colored home planet filling the screen. He knew he should be scanning the atmosphere for storms and other obstacles that would impede their descent, but the closer they got to Deva, the more his fury grew. His brilliant, kind, funny, caring older brother had died in a Devak mine. And not because of a Specter attack. After learning that he’d been accepted to the Quatra Fleet Academy, Rex had signed up for a short-term job in a notoriously dangerous mine to earn enough to get Cormak off planet as well. He’d refused to leave his little brother behind and had paid the ultimate price—he’d been killed in an explosion a few days before the end of his contract. But Cormak knew he wasn’t alone in his grief. That mine had been full of people who’d risked their lives to provide for their families, and for Ward to call them all replaceable made Cormak’s stomach curdle with disgust.
“How’s the flight path looking?” Vesper called, her tone all business.
Cormak glanced at the radar screen. “There’s a sizable storm in the mesosphere,” he said flatly. He’d have given anything to be back with Arran and Orelia, the four of them operating as a single unit, using the shorthand they’d developed during the countless hours they’d spent in the simulcraft.
“How long will it take to go around?”
Cormak started to perform the calculations, but before he could respond, Ward spoke up. “You don’t need to go around. You could get through this storm in your sleep, Vee,” he said in an encouraging voice Cormak had never heard him use before. “I’ve seen you do it a million times.”
Cormak waited eagerly for Vesper to tell him to knock it off. Ward would have to do better than that to get back into her good graces. But to his disappointment, she said nothing, and her shoulders even seemed to relax slightly.
Sticking to the most direct route, Vesper deftly navigated her way through the storm, which grew fiercer as they descended toward Deva’s surface. The simulcraft began to rattle, but Vesper never wavered, and while she barely spoke, Cormak could feel her and Ward settling into a rhythm—the same kind of rhythm he’d always felt when it was him in the captain’s seat.
“We’re almost there,” Ward said. “It’s just like that time we won the tournament back at school. Though this time, we’ll find a better way to celebrate.” He forced a laugh and shook his head. “I can’t believe we thought that hosting a dinner party for our squadron was a good idea. Remember when the fire alarm went off and my brother came running down in his underwear?”
Vesper still didn’t respond, but a small smile seemed to be forming on her face.
“I never thought that smoked magma boar was a good idea,” Vesper said. “You insisted on making it and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She still wasn’t looking at Ward, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
“One of the many times I should’ve listened to you,” Ward said in a wistful tone that made every muscle in Cormak’s body twitch with an urge to punch him in the face. As if Vesper would ever fall for such an obvious ploy.
But to Cormak’s dismay, she didn’t call him out on it. She didn’t even roll her eyes. Spotting his opportunity, Ward continued softly, “I’m never going to make that mistake again. I don’t like the person I become when I’m not around you.”
Bullshit, Cormak thought, biting his tongue to keep from hurling the word. What the hell was Ward talking about? He and Vesper had still been dating when he’d decided to write Go home Edgers on the wall. But he couldn’t say anything. Not when Ward held Cormak’s secret in his hand like a grenade, his fingers ready to pull the pin at any moment.
The rest of the mission went smoothly, although Cormak found it impossible to take pride in their success. Not with Ward in the captain’s seat, whispering sweet nothings to Vesper like they were together in bed instead of a simulcraft. As soon as the words Mission completed flashed across the screen, Cormak jumped out of his seat, refusing to subject himself to this torture any longer than necessary.
But Vesper had already stood up as well, and Cormak slowed down, letting her pass him as he waited for the barbed-wire noose around his stomach to loosen. But it was a futile exercise. No amount of time would lessen the pain of hurting the first girl he’d ever truly loved.
CHAPTER 10
ORELIA
Orelia’s extensive training had prepared her for a variety of challenges. She’d traveled four parsecs from her home planet, posed as a Loosian, gained entry to the Quatra Fleet Academy—the most secure location in her enemy’s solar system—and then transmitted its top-secret coordinates to her commanding officer. Even her arrest hadn’t really come as a surprise. When she’d agreed to this mission, she’d known she’d likely end up in a Quatran execution chamber.
But none of the lectures, exercises, or briefing manuals could’ve prepared her for this. In the span of a few hours, she’d gone from a maximum-security prison cell to the stateroom of a Quatran battlecraft bound for Sylvan, her home planet. She wasn’t even going to be kept under gu
ard during the journey. “We’ve offered you the deal of a lifetime,” Admiral Haze had explained as she’d seen them off on the launchport. “If you try to escape, it’ll mean that you’re far too stupid to be useful to us, so there’s no point in forcing someone to follow you around.”
During the quick initial briefing on board, Zafir had introduced Orelia to the two other fleet officers who’d be accompanying them—a young female linguist named Captain Avar, and an older, slightly grizzled negotiator named Colonel Beaune who’d conspicuously refused to shake Orelia’s hand when they’d met.
Orelia had been ordered to brief the others during the journey, preparing them for the most important, delicate, dangerous meeting in the history of the Quatra System. And so, shortly after the ship had entered light speed, the small group met in the ship’s dining room for their first session. Round, star-filled windows lined one long wall, while across from it hung antique maps of the Quatra System. Dark red leather chairs surrounded the polished wooden table—a strange choice for a military transport ship, Orelia thought. The Sylvans would’ve never used materials that required so much upkeep.
Colonel Beaune and Captain Avar were already seated and talking quietly when she’d arrived. They were both dressed in civilian clothes, which was permitted for this stage of the journey, but that small concession did little to make the gathering feel any more casual. They both glanced at Orelia as she entered, and while Captain Avar was able to maintain some semblance of normalcy, Colonel Beaune didn’t bother to hide his disdain as he glared at Orelia with open hostility.
Let him judge me, Orelia thought, raising her chin. She’d been working on behalf of her own government, just like everyone in this room was doing right now. She had no more blood on her hands than they did. Everyone here had supported the war against the Specters, even when the strategy included murdering millions of civilians. There were no innocent parties on this ship. Yet just as Orelia began to regain her confidence, the final member of the team entered the dining room, and her frantically beating heart dove for shelter in her stomach.
