by Abby J. Reed
By the time the Solterans circled around, he was gone. They concluded the ship must’ve been sucked into the atmosphere and pulled down.
They couldn’t have known the ship boomeranged around the planet, boosters and grav combining to shoot it across the planet’s underside—straight toward the first planet. They couldn't have known that between the corrosion and the asteroid belt ripping a hole in the ship’s side, it was forced to land. They couldn’t have known that the large asteroid blocked the view of the ship plummeting.
As the Solterans rounded the second planet again, looking for evidence of the crash site, Young and the Last Hope fell onto a planet blanketed with blood.
Chapter 1
BREAKER
I’d rather shoot off my other hand than flank again.
We found the spot in space where we’d saved Jupe from his banishment, then retraced our flight path. So far, the journey back to our home planet Scarlatti had a rhythm to it. Malani, my girlfriend and fellow body-modded partner, spent most of the trip curled into a little ball, sleeping in front of the bridge window. Luka, my . . . friend? Never thought those two words belonged in the same sentence. Well, he worked out, scowled, scrubbed his minis in-between flanks, disappeared for horas at a time into the dark recesses of the ship. A fight every time one of us grew hungry. A mumbled apology after a choked down gov-bar.
And flanking. All that bloody flanking.
As for me, I tinkered with Circuit 8.0, listened while Luka explained flying techniques, sifted through the files on Jupe’s data chip. And cleaned. Cleaned the bridge, the main bay, the engine room. Even, stars above, cleaned the bathrooms. Anything to keep my mind off what happened on Syktyv. Off the Extrat attack on the factions, off Leader kidnapping my younger brother Brody, my ex Tahnya, and Jupe, off the fact that it was a matter of time before the Queen discovered Scarlatti held the dark matter she desired and what she was willing to do to the planet to get it.
If I let my thoughts settle, the worry and fear swept over and drowned me. And I refused to live out of fear anymore.
The only way I knew how to do this was to keep busy, keep fixing, keep moving.
Keep flanking.
I studied one of Jupe’s files now. Botty, my cleaning bot, click-click-clicked around my feet in agitated little circles. The bridge shone sterile from all my cleaning, and there was nothing for Botty to do. Even the window was streak-free from Malani’s fingerprints, showing a clear view of an asteroid cluster, edges lit by a distant dying star. I crumpled a bit of unfinished gov-bar onto the floor just to quiet Botty.
The portal diagram settled above the entire interface, where we controlled the ship. The schematic was of a thick circle only a fraction of a percent of how massive the real portal would be, if I interpreted those numbers right. I zoomed in on parts, studied the mechanics. A longing filled my chest. What a stunning piece of tech. To create something like this . . .
Malani appeared at my shoulder. Her dark matter wings were folded and sleep smoothed her face into a pleasant expression. The one good thing about all this flanking: Plenty of sleep for everyone. She now wore a flowy tunic edged with lace over tight coal-black pants. The back folded open to expose the spine and her tattoo, so she didn’t have to make slits for wings. She swept a wayward dread back into a knot and scanned the diagram. “Figure it out yet?”
My dark matter cap, which attached where my left wrist should be, shifted into a hand and I prodded the diagram. The dark matter finally seemed to listen to me, even obeying my thoughts most times. But no matter what shape the cap took, even when I got creative with my programming, the interface still refused to interact with the dark matter. Maybe the whole both-living-and-not thing was too much for the ship to handle. If I built a completely new interface . . . “Whoever designed this must’ve been brilliant,” I said. “From what I can tell, it works different from all the other portals in the galaxy. They generate energy to fold spacetime in place. This one is supposed to help funnel energy. Take what’s already there and direct it on a much more massive scale.”
Malani nodded. She touched the back of my neck, causing the skin around the area to tingle. “Makes sense. It’s supposed to go around the singularity.”
I turned my chair toward her, nudging the again agitated Botty out of the way. “How do you know that?”
She gestured to some Solteran writing on the side. “Says right there.”
“Since when could you read Solteran?”
“Since I’ve been reading over your shoulder for fifty thousand flanks now.” She pointed to the back of her head, mining an injection. “Shot? Herons? Good with languages? Remember?”
“Yeah.” A tightness formed in my throat. I bent over to soothe Botty and distract myself, but—too late. My mind immediately made the connection between: Shot. Brody. Leader. Kill. My chest swelled with the mix of guilt and grief. Guilt that I chose to leave Brody behind on Syktyv. Grief that trusting Jupe and Tahnya with his life was my only option. My throat closed tighter, my mood darkening.
Malani must’ve sensed the storm in my thoughts because she swiveled my chair the rest of the way so I had to make eye contact. Her brown eyes filled with earnest, as though she tried to will hope into me. “Brody will be okay. Astook knows, he’s tougher than an asteroid.” The flank light turned green. Her face morphed near the same shade. “Surely it can’t be healthy to flank so much in a handful of dias.”
“If you have a problem, you’re welcome to find the airlock.” Luka entered the room, a mostly eaten gov-bar in one hand, not noticing the nasty expression Malani threw him. He had finally changed into new clothes. The only thing that fit was another too-short violent orange tunic with the words I TRAVELED TO SPACE AND ONLY BROUGHT BACK THIS T-SHIRT blocked on the front. “Shouldn’t have much more after this.” His minis banged into Circuit as he pushed me aside.
“Careful!” There were no clean clothes made of an easily knotable fabric, so I still wore my old dust-colored pants from Scarlatti. I considered hacking off the pant leg to make accessing Circuit easier, but leaving him exposed meant more opportunity for scratches. At least I liked my long-sleeve tunic. The deep indigo was the dullest of the scorching rainbow colors Jupe had ordered on the TriRing. “I just finished Circuit.”
Luka rolled his eyes and closed out my files.
I knew every creak, every knob, every hinge, every dent on Circuit 7.0. This Circuit? It was like trying to cram an entire relationship from stranger to lovers within a dinner-long convo.
We’d spent quality time together, walking along the hallways, taking the stairs, keeping my thoughts busy as my stump tried to get used to a new socket. All the new Circuits were temperamental at first. Took time to build up trust, to know he’d catch my weight every time. But this guy seemed extra grumpy. Maybe because he was more lightweight and didn’t tug on my back nearly as much or because the socket had an air vacuum seal, Luka’s find from Syktyv’s scrap heap, and I didn’t need to wear a harness, he felt as though he had to make up for the lack of inconvenience through his attitude. I dunno. I didn’t realize how much I missed standing on my own until I had the chance. I was glad I’d kept the crutches though. Gave both Circuit and me a break after a hard one-on-one time.
I reached for Malani as Luka initiated the flank. Eventually, the feeling of being erased lifted. It was like my chest was scrubbed back into existence.
“We’re here.” Luka’s tone turned reverent, expectant. His face was tinged pink with what I knew floated outside the window.
Malani sucked in a deep breath and squeezed my fingertips. Her feathers brushed my shoulders as she flew closer to the window.
I didn't want to look. Didn't want to admit that I was back.
Dragging my gaze to the view felt just as reluctant as when I confronted Brandon’s gravecross for the first time. The same hesitan
t pause as my brain caught up with my eyes and interpreted the heavy information.
Scarlatti’s asteroid belt looped around its bulging gut, as though trying to keep its horrors inside. The edge of the asteroid floated just above the planet’s horizon. Beyond the asteroid hung Scarlatti’s twin, Carmesi, and the twin suns and twin moons. The tiny Gemelos System at its finest.
Except, this couldn’t be right. Shouldn’t the crimson hue blanketing the planet be transformed into royal Solteran purple? Or even have a chunk missing, blown out of orbit? Something on the outside should’ve shifted to represent the change on the inside.
But there was no change. After over a monsa, Scarlatti was exactly the same as when we left.
And at the same time, oh so different.
Last time, Scarlatti’s sanguine and alabaster swirls engulfed the entire bridge window. I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful, anything more nova, than the planet I’d grown up on.
Now Scarlatti was a tiny joke. A scarred blip on a map I couldn’t escape from, no matter how much I tried. I’d seen a planet that was bigger, a map that stretched farther. Yet, I’d always bleed for this planet, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I’d never known I could simultaneously love and hate a place so much. I wanted to save that stupid planet. I also wanted to watch its scarlet trees burn. The rift between the two emotions spread, leaving a numbness in their wake.
My cap shifted, rippling from a screwdriver to a dagger back to a screwdriver. Pretty much all my feelings in a single moment.
Botty nudged my foot. I swept him on my lap, tilting him so he could take in the planet. “See that, Botty? It’s home.” Even though it wasn’t the home I dreamed of.
“Ready?” Malani had landed, a streak of nose and finger prints left against the glass. Her wings spread, ready for whatever came next. She would’ve gone with me. We would’ve traveled to our ancestral home together, if everything hadn’t fallen apart.
Looking over at Luka and the layer of eagerness spreading over his face, he was the only one sure about returning.
“No.” I stood, careful with putting my weight on Circuit. It was as though he communicated every wrong bump and texture on the First Hope to the rest of my body. At least he was here with me to give me courage. However grumpy his mood.
When we left, the three-way tribal feud had finally exploded into violence. The Elik launched bombs and swarmed into the compound. The Herons were also ready to attack both the compound and the Elik. The compound had created dark matter weapons and itched to defend their home. The entire valley was a war-zone.
“But we need to do this,” I continued. “If we don’t convince the survivors to evacuate and give over the dark matter, the Queen will kill whoever is left. And we have no idea how soon she’ll arrive.” I nodded to Luka, not saying the dreaded words: If there are any survivors left. “Take us down.”
~ ~ ~
We took our time weaving through the asteroid belt, and as we started our descent into the atmosphere, a couple speckles rose on Scarlatti’s surface. A new shade of garnet spread like a stain, spotted with even deeper freckles. The ocean dotted by islands, leading toward the small continent where our valley was located. I’d never seen this part of Scarlatti before, let alone the ocean. Funny how I could know so much more about the universe and so much less about my own planet.
The asteroid crept completely into view. All we had to do now was cross the belt and slip underneath to our valley. My chest ratcheted tight. The last time I’d seen the valley from high, a skin-flag waved above me while King Oma offered a not-so-lenient bargain to save my compound.
Here I was, back again, trying to still save the compound from yet another royal.
Right irritating.
I gripped the edge of the interface, alternating between the urge to scrub the window clean of prints and hyper shallow breathing.
It didn't take long until we rounded from the south-east, descending closer, coming up on the massive U-shaped mountain range by way of the Herons. The water beneath churned, flashes of white caps breaking the monotonous red. At the base of the Heron mountains, the sand was scored.
“Drop lower,” I said.
The bones of wrecked boats, bigger versions of the toys I’d made with Brandon, littered across the shoreline. The side of the mountain itself was pocked with patterned holes. Some were clearly made by bombs. Luka lifted the ship’s nose, and I got a glimpse of the top of a tower to the north before the fortress edged into full view.
Malani gasped. She soared back into the air, as though the couple extra meters helped her see better. “How?” she whispered.
The Heron fortress was ruined.
Only a slight trail of smoke drifted from the place where Malani and I were once held prisoner. No great doors opening to a stunning view. The stone fortress had been reduced to a barely-there mound jutting from the mountain top. Part of me was glad. It meant our compound would no longer be threatened by the Herons. It meant safety. Another part of me tasted the tang of horror.
We didn’t have the weapons to do this much damage. So who did?
I glanced across the valley to the Elik city of Houtiri. Even though Luka had blown up half of Houtiri before we’d left, we should’ve been able to see at least some of the remaining glass rooftops glinting in the late afternoon light. There were none. Malani slowly sank back to the floor, her palm prints like tear streaks.
My heart tightened. My grip locked on Botty. I will not be afraid. I finally looked down toward the compound.
My head titled. What the—?
The fog that had kept us from exploring south beyond the dwarf lake had expanded, leeching into the burgundy and carmine forest and tinging all that vibrant color dull. As though all the trees had gone to rust in the wet. Tips poked through like fingers protruding from a grave, otherwise the valley was blank and black and bare. Even the suns seemed drained of color to form two pale orbs.
Without a word, Luka descended lower. We skimmed above the tree tips, searching for any sign of survivors. The fog was too thick, like a dark glue spread across the valley sealing us out. We flew closer to the compound, our exhausts sending a reflective orange glow onto the fog’s surface. We had to be right over the boundary fence now.
The fog cleared.
My stomach flipped and bile coated my tongue.
The compound . . . The compound . . .
Decimated.
Nausea roiled as the view became clearer. The three factories, flattened. The apartment buildings, mostly leveled into faint rust-red blobs of rubble. Even the compound’s center barely stood with all the support of toothpicks. The trees and bushes and foliage had been burned both inside and outside the boundary fence, creating a ring of charcoal as though someone had tried to erase a terrible drawing.
No indication of what had happened after we left. No pile of bodies or blood staining the dirt to show us the result of the war. No colored flags to indicate the victor.
No movement at all save the slow twisting tendrils of the fog in the buckled streets.
What the hell happened?
Were we too late?
Who won?
I touched Luka’s shoulder. His entire body wound like a coiled spring. “Land us where the fog is thinnest, in the orchards,” I said. “They’re burned out anyway and it’ll put us on higher ground.”
For the first time, I was glad Tahnya wasn't here. Her precious gardens and orchards were simply ash. Her life’s work, gone. Even the stingfly hives, where she spent every spare min, were melted lumps. Bumps rose where the apple trees once stood. I recognized the formation.
Mass graves.
Too late. We’re too late.
I started to hyperventilate. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. The walls closed in and—Luka nudged me hard en
ough to shock me back into my body.
We landed Hope next to the graves. None of us moved as we stared at our surroundings through the bridge window. None of us dared breathe out loud. Each creak of the ship echoed in my ears, a thousand times louder than it should be. Luka’s hands clenched on his mini hilts. His chest barely moved. The first time I’d ever seen him in true shock. Malani pressed against the glass. Her distorted reflection showed an expression filled with fear.
And still no sign of who won the war. Still no sign of who lived.
After a long, silent min, I reached over Luka. My movements were rigid, but I managed to bring up the data port coordinates anyway. I licked my lips, tried to force sound from my throat. Was there anyone left for Scorpia to help save?
“Scorpia? We’re here. Just follow the beam. That’s where we and the dark matter are.” I clicked through to send the tight beam, my eyes still not truly leaving the barren landscape.
Nothing happened.
“Huh.” I recorded the message again and tried to send.
Nothing.
Malani peeled away from the window, her eyes wet. “What’s wrong?”
“The tightbeam program isn’t working.” I tried sending the message to another data port. “I can’t send it anywhere. But that doesn’t make sense. It was working when we talked with Jupe. Nothing changed.”
Luka frowned. “Except landing.” He leaned back on his heels, thinking. With a problem to solve, he seemed more himself. “We never could get comms outside the valley. The tower blocks the signal. Basic defensive measures.”
“But we’re still in the valley.” Malani fluttered over, bobbing in front of the interface to block our view. “We should take off. Get back into the upper atmo and try.”
My tone was anything but gentle. “We need to see who survived.” If anyone survived.
