Ember in Space The Collection

by Rebecca Rode

  But he’d leave them to that. The moment anything substantial was found, the candidates would bring it to the emperor, and they couldn’t do that without Stefan knowing. He already had alerts set up throughout the system. They were basic, but they would do the job. In the meantime, Stefan searched for any information he could find on flares, specifically on Ember’s father.

  If he could discover the extent of Ember’s abilities, it would tell him so much—where flares originated, why the emperor wanted her, what he planned for her to do, and most importantly, what the Union would be using her for. That last bit of knowledge would lead him to Ember. He knew it deep down.

  And finally, here in front of him was a single mention of the word flare, the only one he’d found in his endless hours of searching. It was buried in a file marked “Lea” categorized as a fifteen-year-old medical record.

  He straightened and tapped the file. It required a permission code, which thankfully he’d stolen this morning. He entered it and waited, holding his breath.

  The file opened.

  Four flickers, the record began. Four. And they all said the same thing.

  Intrigued, Stefan leaned in to explore the tiny text. The author’s name was absent, but the grammatical pattern indicated it was definitely not network generated.

  * * *

  Lea said something tonight at dinner that worried me. She talked about how we shouldn’t release the slave nations, how they served their purpose and we all had our place. I asked what she meant, and she replied that her place was on my throne someday. I’ve been telling her that for years, so that wasn’t alarming. But the way she said it, cocking her head like she does and smiling . . . it nagged at me all evening. So that night when she’d gone to sleep, I did what I swore to Clera I would never do. I ordered a flicker reading for my own daughter.

  It was a young woman who came, practically a child. I knew she wouldn’t lie to me. It took the girl awhile to find the information I wanted, but when she did, she didn’t want to tell me. I threatened her with death if she didn’t, so in a moment it all spilled out. The girl said my daughter would one day murder me as I lay upon my bed. Then she would set the Empire on a stormy, war-filled path that led to the extermination of nearly every existing race.

  I called in three other flickers, but they all said the same thing. One man even wept as he said the words. I asked him whether my daughter would become a flare like the one Lazarus Kane discovered, but the flicker said no. Her evil future was simply a product of her nature.

  I had him and the other two flickers killed. No use allowing such a dreadful vision to leak out among the populace. But I kept the girl. She will come in handy later, as I fulfill the plan unfolding in my mind.

  May Clera forgive me for what I must do.

  * * *

  Stefan shot out of his chair, heart hammering in his chest. His breath came hard and fast. This was no medical record. He’d stumbled across the most classified of Empire files—the journal of the emperor himself. How was that even possible?

  He started to pace, glancing at the screen to make sure the record wasn’t a figment of his imagination. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. If the emperor had a private record, he wouldn’t place it in a tightly controlled file. That would be the first place the Union looked for sensitive information. But old medical records? There was little of value there. Nobody would ever find it. And even if they did, the author had been careful not to name himself, just in case.

  Stefan knew who it was anyway. Only one ruler had a dead wife named Clera. It made sense that his daughter, the next in line for the emperor’s throne, had to be Lea.

  But why make a record of this event at all? It would only incriminate him . . . unless he wanted his daughter to find it someday. He’d used her name as its title. It must be the only explanation. And there were no other entries in the file.

  Lea had to be the Daughter, the leader of the Union. This event had to be why she’d been exiled. She’d probably stumbled across the Union and eventually talked them into letting her lead them.

  And she’d set the Empire on a stormy, war-filled path that would surely lead to the extermination of every existing race.

  Even the emperor himself was afraid of the woman. And Ember was in her bloody hands.

  Stefan forced himself to sit down and memorize it. He didn’t dare make a copy, not when that could trigger attention to his account. But it was clear now that Stefan’s researching days were over. He had to find Ember and warn her before she got tangled up in all this.

  He had to keep the emperor’s daughter from the throne at all costs.

  Chapter 10

  General Pyne plopped into the seat beside Ember. “This is such a waste of time.”

  Ember didn’t turn to him, instead wishing the man would sit somewhere else for the last hour of their journey. She’d spoken to him twice on their entire three-day voyage, and in her opinion, that was two times too many. The sharpness with which he’d greeted her in the Daughter’s chambers that first day appeared to be a deeply ingrained personality trait.

  “Which part, sir?” Ember asked flatly. “Saving hundreds of abandoned flickers or giving our troops experience?”

  He grinned as if she’d stepped into a trap. “All of it. More flickers won’t get us anywhere. We need more ships, more weapons. More food. This useless mission will slow us down, flare. Mark my words.” He fastened his harness and sat back with a raised eyebrow, almost daring her to disagree.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’ve made your opinion quite clear, General. I just don’t think you should oppose the Daughter so publicly.”

  He snorted. “She knows I disagree with her. That’s why she trusts me.”

  It wasn’t quite logical, but she was happy to let the conversation die. Instead, she examined the passenger hold of their temporary home. The ship could transport hundreds, but it was chopped up in a way that made it feel smaller. She’d spent most of the trip in this room intended as a pilot’s quarters, with a simple sleeping bench and the makeshift seats she and the general now occupied. An old-fashioned ship’s radio hung on the wall next to the door to the bridge, where the pilots were. Ember had been relieved to find she knew at least one of the pilots—the rainbow-haired Gilgan captain who’d transported her from Earth. The woman still didn’t appear to like Ember much, but this time it wasn’t about her. It was about the dozens of flickers and troops huddled throughout the ship. Ember had visited with them a few times, and they were cramped and weary but in good spirits. Well, except for Reina, who complained nearly the entire three days. If only Ember could lock Reina and General Pyne away together. She grinned at the thought.

  A thump sounded from below as the soldiers continued preparations for their arrival. Their scanners showed no activity near their destination, but that worried Ember. Kane was too smart to leave his planet unprotected by sensors. Surely they would have triggered defensive action by now. The news made General Pyne grow excited, anticipating a quick, easy mission.

  “Fifteen minutes till our arrival,” the captain said over the private speaker. “If you’d like to issue your orders now, General, I’ll prepare the channel for you.”

  The general raised his voice. “Just tell the advance team captains to be ready. Everyone else should remain in their seat, weapons at the ready.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the radio. Ember gritted her teeth. It was the general’s job to issue orders like that, not the pilot’s. The man truly couldn’t be bothered to cross the room and pick up a radio?

  “Yes, sir,” the pilot finally said. There was a click, then she repeated the commander’s order.

  Ember gripped her armrest, her stomach fluttering at the realization that they would be landing soon. It was far from her favorite part of space travel.

  Earth had been so much simpler, everything they needed within walking distance. That was the ideal situation, she decided. Yet another reason why the Empire h
ad destroyed entire cultures and societies—they’d taken away the natural protection of distance.

  Stop it, she reminded herself. Now wasn’t the time to wallow in the past. She’d had plenty of time to do that over the last three days. Instead, she turned to the general. “You called this a waste. How, then, do you propose we get more ships and weapons and food? You must have an idea.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “We steal them like we did in the beginning.”

  Not the answer she expected. “From the Empire?”

  He chuckled. “Only if you want to die. No, cargo ships are ideal. Their owners fight off pirates regularly, so their ships are adequately equipped for battle. But most importantly, they aren’t tracked.”

  Like we did in the beginning, he’d said. “You served the Union when it first began?”

  “I did. I’m the oldest living founder.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise. Why hadn’t she known this before? “What changed, then?”

  He made a face. “Her Eminence.” He spat the word. “When she came to power, she decided people would only join us if we are self-sustaining. But how do we expect to face the Empire like this? Their troops outnumber us 150 to one, and their rigorous training program requires years of experience and testing before they’re even deployed. Our boys get a few weeks of training at best. And now she expects us to win with magic.”

  Ember gave him a sideways look. Magic. She could understand why people saw her power that way. To them it was invisible, hard to comprehend, and hard to protect oneself from. And when a person felt exposed, they grew resentful of the person holding the power.

  “I believe rescuing those flickers is the right thing to do,” Ember said, remembering her decision while visiting Harlow. She would bring good from a terrible situation, like her father would have. Today that meant rescuing others like her, people who’d had their freedom and dignity wrenched from them. They deserved the chance to return to their families if they wished.

  They deserved the opportunity she would never have.

  “There’s no absolute right or wrong in politics, flare,” Pyne said. “There’s just good and better. This mission is good from a humanitarian standpoint, but it’s a huge waste of resources.”

  “I disagree. Those flickers could be retrieved and used by the Empire against us instead.”

  He shook his head. “The Empire wouldn’t do that. They have plenty of your kind already. You only really need a few to put up an effective defense, despite what you people like to think.”

  “But many of them have spent time on Empire ships. They could have intelligence we need.”

  “Nothing we don’t already have.”

  “So rescuing a human being simply because they need it is below you, General? Is that right?”

  He finally turned to face her. His cheeks were red now, his jaw taut. His eyes flashed with indignation. “You think you know what war is, don’t you? You, a girl who’s seen perhaps one battle from the protection of an Empire ship. You have no idea what we’ve survived, the weeks we’ve spent slowly starving because our supply ships were intercepted. Our leaders are tortured and killed for information. We used to occupy six bases, girl. Six. Now we’re all crowded into the same place, people sleeping on top of each other and eating stale rations. The engineering teams work two or three shifts in a row, sleeping four hours a night to build pods to house the people we already have. Yes, I believe this recruiting mission is foolish. So don’t you lecture me about being a good human being and helping the less fortunate when we can’t even help ourselves.”

  She blinked at the onslaught. His breathing came hard now, as if his speech had sapped his strength. He turned away again.

  “You think our recruits will only take,” she said softly. “That may be true at first. But in the end, I believe they will contribute far more.”

  The general just shook his head.

  “Ten minutes till arrival,” the pilot announced. “We’ll slow to half speed on the approach, General. Any last instructions?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  As angry as she was, Ember couldn’t help but reflect on how far she’d come in a few short weeks. She didn’t feel like the same girl who had sat on a ship much like this, her wrists and ankles bound, determined to escape and return to her sick father. That girl would never have walked next to a famous military general, let alone argued with him about humanity.

  She unsnapped her harness and made her way to the radio. “Captain, I would like to address the ship.”

  The pilot sounded relieved. “Readying the channel. Go ahead.”

  “This is Ember,” she said. “I’m joining the advance team near the doors. I want my squad leaders to meet me there, ready for combat. Everyone else will wait to hear from me. Out.”

  “That’s not how you address troops, flickers or otherwise,” the general grumbled. “You sound like the scared little captain you are.”

  “Funny, you don’t sound like anything at all.” She stalked toward the doors, retrieving the stunner from her belt. “Make yourself comfortable, General. I’ll take over from here.”

  The hatch window allowed Ember to see Kane’s planet for the first time. About half of the size of Earth, Arcadia was a brown and muddy-looking planet. No ships challenged them. Perhaps Pyne was right about the soldiers leaving upon Kane’s death. Had his prisoners even survived in the weeks since then?

  They landed on a pad several minutes later. Ember’s first impression proved correct—the ground was a muddy mess of small vegetation and standing water. Insects buzzed so thickly she could hardly see. This was the planet Kane had been so proud of? No wonder the emperor had allowed Kane to bring failed flickers here. They’d never be a threat to anyone in such a forsaken place.

  The advance team leaped out of their seats, helmets on, and stormed the hatch. It was a long ten minutes while they scouted the area. When Ember’s team arrived, she directed them to sit on the benches and wait. Most seemed calm, although Bex’s foot bounced excitedly as he sat, a too-large helmet propped in his lap.

  Finally, a soldier from the scouting party returned, a wide-shouldered woman with sharp features. She entered the decompression area and removed her helmet. “The area is clear, Lady Flare. Our sensors confirm an oxygen-rich environment. These helmets shouldn’t be necessary, although they will help against the insects.”

  Ember wasn’t surprised to hear that the planet was livable. Kane wouldn’t have chosen this planet as his home if he couldn’t dwell comfortably here. But that knowledge didn’t make her feel any better. She’d just landed on Kane’s planet. Voluntarily. Even though she knew the man was dead, her skin crawled like a million insects had found their way beneath her clothing.

  “Excellent,” Pyne said from behind her.

  She whirled to find him standing tall and regal, as if her comments hadn’t affected him at all. But the glower he sent her as he continued said otherwise. “Secure the perimeter while we position the troops. You’ve identified their headquarters?”

  The soldier switched her attention to the general. “We have, sir. Seventy degrees to the north, about two hundred meters.”

  “Good. Since there’s no greeting party to deal with, we’ll escort the flicker team to the building immediately. We should be out of here by nightfall.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “We’ll proceed when you’re ready, Lady Flare,” he said with sarcasm. “Hundreds of downtrodden flickers await their savior.”

  The sky was as dead and brown as the ground. Ember was glad she had a helmet, although she wished she’d put on gloves. She batted away another insect and shoved her hands into her pockets. Brennan did the same beside her, a look of concentration on his face as he walked. He was scanning for prisoners like she was. Eventually he would come to the same conclusion: the survivors were inside the building they approached now.

  And the Daughter was right about their numbers—Ember felt hundreds of them, most shielded. T
hey were wary, suspicious. Not at all afraid.

  This wouldn’t be as easy as General Pyne assumed.

  Commander Kane’s home was predictably spacious. The exterior stone had to have been shipped in since there didn’t appear to be any around. Several stories high, the structure had few windows and boasted nothing but varying shades of gray. It stood out starkly against the terrain. Brown and gray. It suited Lazarus Kane.

  Stop thinking about him like he’s alive, Ember chided herself. He was gone, and she was coming to liberate his captives. Then why did she feel something was very wrong here?

  “I don’t like this,” Reina muttered behind Ember, echoing her thoughts.

  General Pyne nodded to the advance line, which strode to the front doors. They opened easily.

  She reached out inwardly, trying to feel the emotions of those trapped deep within the ground. They were unafraid, but they were also armed and determined. If Pyne’s troops went barging in with weapons, people would die.

  “Leave your troops here, general,” Ember said “We’ll go in alone. They’re waiting for us beneath the building.”

  “Beneath?” General Pyne repeated. He backed up to examine the building’s foundation. “That isn’t possible with this kind of terrain.”

  “I feel them too, Lady Flare,” Bex said excitedly. He’d materialized at her other side, his face eager behind the helmet’s glass. She gave him a weak smile, wishing she’d been able to convince the boy to stay on the ship.

  Pyne scowled. “Stand back while a team of barely trained flickers gets themselves killed? Not under my command.”

  Ember was already approaching the doors. “We go alone, and I’m not asking.” Her flickers followed, some more quickly than others.

  To her surprise, nobody else followed them. Perhaps Pyne really was as lazy as she believed. Or maybe he just didn’t care if she failed. It only gave him more power and saved more precious resources.

  “Over there,” Brennan said, pointing to the stairs and a panel in the small wall underneath them. It had been well hidden, but now it stood open. A figure stood in the dark shadows inside.