Ember in Space The Collection

by Rebecca Rode

  “This way,” the man said. Despite the shadows, Ember could tell he had no hair on him at all—his head, arms, face. Even his eyebrows were missing. A Ka’Trien, one of the more Empire-favored races. She’d only seen two in her entire life. They didn’t often leave their home planet in the second sector.

  The man turned and descended, disappearing into the blackness.

  “A hairless minion offering to take us underground,” Reina muttered. “And I’m supposed to be okay with this?”

  Brennan elbowed her sharply. “They’re not going to attack us. Reach out and see for yourself.”

  “I’m not touching those . . . those filthy beings. Even if it is an inner touch.”

  Ember paused outside the door, turning on Reina. “Filthy beings? Choose your words carefully, Reina.”

  Reina met her gaze. “Everyone knows why they’re here. They’re Kane’s mistresses.”

  “All the more reason to rescue them. Stay here if you’re too afraid.” Ember turned her back on the girl and stepped inside.

  Despite her earlier confidence, Ember tightly gripped the rail as she stepped into the darkness. It was the stuff of nightmares—a never-ending descent down stairs she couldn’t see. The only reason she knew she was alive was the sound of breathing around her. Their guide didn’t seem winded, calling behind him every few minutes to ask after them. Occasionally a flicker would stumble and everyone would grip the rail, ready to be crashed into from behind, but they managed to stay on their feet.

  Finally, when Ember thought her knees would give out and send her plunging to her death, their guide spoke. “Just a few more steps to the bottom. Please wait there.” His voice was slow and accented.

  They waited. And waited. Sounds surrounded them, people coughing and whispering. She reached out and felt hundreds of dim lights around her. They weren’t alone.

  “You will hand me your weapons,” the guide said, and Ember felt a hand on her arm. She reluctantly handed him her stunner. He moved on to the next person.

  After what felt like forever, light suddenly flooded her eyes. Pain stabbed through Ember’s mind.

  Blinking, she strained to see her surroundings. They were in a massive room with low ceilings. Cold, electric lights emitted a harsh, bluish brightness. And there, standing under the lights, were hundreds of women and children.

  So many children.

  Reina shot Ember a look that said, Told you so.

  This life could have been hers. Had she not been a flare with powers Kane desired, she would have ended up here. How long had these women lived this way? Would Ember have fared any better against him had he fallen upon her? Harlow had nearly taken her life with only his hands.

  Their guide positioned himself between Ember and the watching families. “Our leader wishes a word with you.”

  “Very well,” Ember said, still stunned at the sight. The women stood ready, many armed with stunners, arms draped protectively around their children. And yet they weren’t the forlorn, suffering people Ember imagined. They looked irritated, almost angry Ember and her group had dared descend upon them. As if they’d interrupted their peaceful lives.

  A waste of time, Ember mused. General Pyne was right. These people didn’t want to fight for the Union. They finally had their freedom from Kane, an assurance they could live in peace. Why did the Daughter assume these people would jump to her aid? Especially when the Union had done nothing to help them before now.

  The guide motioned to the wall directly in front of the bottom platform, and Ember realized there was a door. Their so-called leader must be on the other side. Curious, she went to open it.

  “Only the woman Ember,” the guide said as Brennan moved to follow. “The rest of you remain here. You’ll be safe as long as you are quiet and still.”

  Ember wasn’t surprised. She nodded to her flickers, who shifted their weight uncomfortably but stayed. Then she pushed open the door.

  It was much brighter in here. The light source was different, but even more than that, everything was white. The walls, the furniture. The room itself was small, but Ember felt like she was back on an Empire ship. Behind a small desk sat a man.

  Commander Kane.

  Chapter 11

  Ember stumbled backward, but the door was already closed. She fumbled for a knob and found none.

  “Welcome to my home,” the man said. It was not Kane’s voice.

  With a start, Ember saw the truth. It wasn’t Kane but a man who looked nearly identical. Same dark hair and piercing eyes, but his face was narrower and his shoulders less broad. A younger, taller version of Lazarus Kane.

  Ember swallowed hard and stepped forward, chiding herself. She’d seen Kane’s light leave him. The man was dead. This had to be a relative.

  “Don’t worry,” the man said. “I get that reaction a lot from people who knew my father. By the look on your face, I’m guessing you two weren’t on good terms.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

  She probed his inner light only to find a rock-hard shield. Wary, she checked her own for reassurance. It held, although the shock had weakened it somewhat. She’d have to watch that.

  “I’m Ember,” she said, examining the room. The simple office was far more cluttered than Kane would ever have allowed. There were photos stuck haphazardly to the walls, breaking up the white, and none of the furniture matched.

  He inclined his head. “A pleasure to have you here, Ember. I’m Ruben. Why don’t we sit down? It isn’t every day I have a flare in my office, let alone one employed by the Union.”

  Ember remained standing as the man sat. He knew who they were and had expected them. Of course he did. They had flickers too, after all. They had likely read most of them before the ship even landed.

  “The Union doesn’t own me, if that’s what you think,” Ember said quickly. “We simply have mutual interests. So, Commander—I mean, Kane left you in charge of his household?”

  Ruben shrugged. “He always was a traditional family man. Oldest son and all that, although I was a disappointment to him in many ways. When he died, I inherited everything he owned.”

  Including his harem? she wanted to ask, her face twisting in distaste.

  Ruben leaned back in his seat, chuckling. “Your expressions are quite entertaining, you know that? Let me put your worries to rest. I put on an act for my father whenever he was here, but once he left, we lived quite peacefully. And I gave everyone their freedom the moment we heard about his death.”

  “And yet they’re still here.”

  He gave a solemn nod. “Where else would they go? There’s a reason they were shipped here, Ember. They can’t return to their families or the Empire would find out and quietly execute them. And we’ve no ships left to take us anywhere. Kane was very careful about what he left behind. So yes, they have their freedom, but very few options to go along with it. Besides, they’ve grown close over the years. You might even call them family.”

  Ember didn’t mean to glare so suspiciously at the man, but she couldn’t help it. “So you’re saying you never treated these women like your father did? Forced them to—you know.”

  “Never. Go ahead and ask them; they’ll tell you as much.” He grinned. “My women come of their own accord.”

  She watched him for a long moment. He seemed convincing enough, but his father had been charming too. There were a few differences about him—slightly darker hair, a near-constant smile. He had his father’s confidence and perhaps a hint of his arrogance. But he did appear to harbor a quiet amusement, patience, an openness of character. He’d obviously inherited those from his mother.

  Ruben’s mother. Ember had seen her holding an infant in Kane’s own memories. Was Ruben that infant? Kane joined the Empire shortly after the infant’s birth, but she hadn’t been able to discover why.

  His grin widened. “I’d love to know what you’re thinking, honored flare. I must admit I don’t often have guests examine me like this.”

  Her defenses hardened
at once, and she came to her senses. Differences or not, this man was Kane’s son and therefore not to be trusted. “We’ve come to offer your people a way off this planet.”

  “Assuming we join the Union, of course.”

  Ember was silent.

  “Let me guess—and those who don’t will be executed.”

  Ember hadn’t been given orders to kill those who didn’t want to join. However, it was entirely possible General Pyne had. But he wasn’t here, and she was. “Our leaders are worried that those who stay will offer aid to the Empire against us. You must promise never to tell anyone about us or those we recruit.”

  “This is a haven from the Empire. Contacting them would mean death for many of those whose lives I’ve sworn to protect.”

  He seemed sincere. His eyes remained steadily on her, not wavering in the least. She thought again of the crowds waiting outside the door. Kane had treated them like property. Ember refused to do the same. She would present them with a choice—join the Union and receive their protection or take their chances here. They deserved to choose their own fate.

  “I need to address your people,” she said. “Swear to me you’ll step aside and allow them to make their own decisions without retaliation or blame.”

  “You have my word. I’ve no wish to keep anyone here who doesn’t want to be. In fact, I’ve a mind to come along myself.”

  Ember blinked. Commander Kane’s son, join the Union?

  “Don’t look so surprised. You want all able-bodied flickers, right?” He winked.

  Ruben was a flicker. Kane wasn’t, which meant his mother had to be. Had his wife’s death spurred a lifelong obsession with the powers his wife and son held yet remained out of his own reach?

  “That is your right, if you choose,” she said. “But you’ll serve under me, like the others.”

  “It would be my pleasure.” He grinned as if he truly meant it.

  Her skin crawled again, as if an insect or two had followed her down here. But it was an inner discomfort, a feeling something was still wrong. She checked his shield again, then pulled out, disappointed. She’d never seen a shield protected so well. It was as if her touch slid right off, like his shield was shaped differently. Did he have something to hide, or was he simply well-trained?

  She glanced at the door, then paused. “Before we make the announcement, you should know the Union didn’t kill Lazarus Kane. I did.”

  His smile didn’t waver. “I know. Why else do you think I allowed your presence here?”

  Now it was Ember’s turn to be confused. “You couldn’t exactly stop us from coming.”

  “Ah, but I could. The fact that we have no ships is irrelevant. We have several hundred hidden guns, all capable of shooting you right out of the atmosphere upon your descent. In fact, my men have already surrounded yours outside. They await my orders.”

  Ruben’s men. Foolish. Of course Commander Kane hadn’t fathered all these children. Some of the failed flickers would have been men. Had General Pyne attempted to fight back? Her heart picked up the pace, sending adrenaline through her body. She eyed the door again.

  Ruben put his hands up in surrender. “Ember, please calm yourself. Your forces surrendered peacefully once your general was stunned. He’s fine, I assure you. There were no lives lost, and I’d like to keep it that way. It’s for the safety of my people on the other side of that door.”

  They were trapped. Cornered. Bested by a group of people with no transportation, led by the son of a dictator. The forces the Daughter had sent were vastly outnumbered. She would be enraged to hear how easily they’d been overcome. Pyne would be livid when he awoke.

  “Release them, then,” Ember said smoothly. “We mean none of you harm. I’ll give them orders to admit anyone who wishes to come and leave those who don’t. We’ll be gone in minutes.”

  Ruben was shaking his head even before she finished. “Not minutes. It will take all night to get them ready. They need to pack, to say their goodbyes. And I have to speak with my second to prepare her to take my place here. It’s no easy task, caring for so many people on a dead planet like this. We can’t leave sooner than tomorrow morning.”

  Unease hummed in her mind. Don’t trust him. Don’t trust him. Ten hours gave him plenty of time to signal the Empire and report their presence here. “That’s too long. We’ll leave in three hours, with or without recruits. And I’m leaving a couple of guards with you to ensure you don’t bring any unwanted attention to us before then.”

  Irritation flashed briefly through his eyes, and then it was gone. “Very well. Three hours it is.”

  Chapter 12

  On the second day of their journey home, Ember visited her team in the cargo hold. They were playing a card game, rubbing their arms to keep warm. The moment they spotted her, however, they leaped to their feet and saluted. Reina sent razor-sharp glares her way until she finally left.

  Silly Ember. She kept forgetting she was supposed to be above companionship.

  She decided to check on General Pyne, who still lay in the ship’s small medical bay. The medic assured her the general’s concussion would be healed enough to allow him to walk off the ship when they arrived tomorrow. Regardless, the general wasn’t happy about being forced to lie down the entire trip.

  She chuckled despite herself, remembering his dismay at waking to find he’d been stunned point-blank by Ruben’s soldiers. He’d admitted to shouting at them and refusing to put down his weapons, but he didn’t remember the resulting shots at all. Even Ruben appeared to find it amusing. Unfortunately, that left Ember in charge for the moment, a situation she didn’t appreciate.

  She tiptoed past the passenger hold, where many of their new recruits were sleeping. The flickers and soldiers had occupied these spaces on the way to Arcadia, but Ember couldn’t in good conscience fill the cold cargo hold with mothers and young children. The soldiers would forgive her eventually.

  Reina and some of the flickers, though—they were a hopeless cause.

  To her surprise, Ruben stood by the door when she arrived. He unfolded his arms and grinned as she approached. “Coming to visit the dear general? I’m afraid the medic is refusing visitors at present. She said the man is sleeping and should not be disturbed.” He said the last part in a ridiculously high-pitched voice.

  Ember didn’t take the bait. “Why would you visit our general?”

  “Is it too much to believe I wanted to apologize? My men were simply following orders, but everyone knows an old, frail gentleman like the general can’t take a stunner shot at such close range.”

  She nodded. “Actually, yes. That is too much to believe.”

  “Hmm.” He tapped his foot. “Well, maybe I wanted to talk to him about you. You’re a very interesting phenomenon, you know.”

  “Nice try.” Without thinking, she reached out to examine his shield again but found it as strong as ever.

  Ruben’s smile faded a bit. “You’ll never trust me, will you?”

  “No.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait.” His voice was pleading now, all traces of his jovial performance gone. “I’ve heard you can manipulate light, not just read it. If that’s true, why are you even here? I mean, you have incredible power. You’re far above these people and their war.”

  Ember cringed inwardly at the word manipulate. If tearing the very soul from a person was manipulating it, then sure she could. And as for being above these people, he obviously didn’t understand any of this.

  For the fifth time that day, she thought of Dai. He’d been “powerful” too, yet if Neraline was telling the truth, it had nearly taken control of him. Had he figured out how to shock someone’s light into unconsciousness like she had? If he did know, he would have had better control when his light turned unruly at the end of his Empire career.

  She would never get the chance to ask.

  “I know that look,” Ruben said, his eyebrows drawn in concern. “I’ve seen that hardness before, but there’s something b
eneath it. You carry such pain in your eyes. I’d love to know how you bear it.”

  Ember straightened, looking him in the eye. It was startling how much he resembled his father. “I don’t wish to brief you on what I can or can’t do, Master Kane. I think you should return to your seat now.”

  He visibly shuddered. “Don’t ever call me that.”

  “You don’t wish to be associated with your father?”

  “Not like that. Not ever.”

  “Yet your relation is the source of your influence.” And he had plenty. He’d brought nearly the entire settlement with him. Only about a dozen remained behind.

  “It’s not influence if it doesn’t belong to you,” Ruben said softly. “My father was feared, respected, but not loved.”

  Ember remembered the woman holding the infant in her vision of Kane’s past. She had been young and beautiful, an expression of utter trust in her face as she gazed upon Lazarus Kane. To have received love like that, the man couldn’t have been bad his entire life. Something had changed him. “And your mother?”

  Ruben shifted, looking uncomfortable for the first time. “Killed in battle when I was an infant.”

  “Battle?” Ember strained to remember what she’d seen in his memories, but there was nothing like this. Perhaps he’d heard the news from afar. “The Empire attacked your planet.”

  Ruben snorted. “Not the Empire. The Union. They slaughtered an entire city on their way to another sector because they wanted to steal our supplies. I was away with my father at the time.”

  Ember rocked back, stunned. The general had admitted to stealing ships and supplies in the early days. But slaughtering innocent civilians? Who had their initial leader been, and how could he possibly justify such a horrific thing?

  “You know I’m telling the truth,” Ruben said with a nod. “I just insulted the very group carrying us to safety, and yet you don’t reprimand me for it.”