by Abby J. Reed
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get choked up. “I’m glad you’re safe too.”
Mom looked over my shoulder. I could tell she spotted Malani by the way she jumped. Her fingers fluttered to her neck. The bruises from Malani’s choke-out were gone. Then she looked beyond Malani, expectant. “Where’s Brody?”
The way she said it, as though all her hopes were pinned on my answer . . . Oh stars. They didn’t know if Brody had been killed or if in the end he had come with me. I didn’t think . . . It would’ve been better to die going after Brody, die fixing my mistake, than to be here now without him. I stepped away from my dad. “He was there . . . He was with me.”
Mom breathed, her muscles suddenly tightening. “Was?”
Dad sagged as though all his strength was superficial and had been suddenly sucked away. “He’s dead, then?” The words came out reluctant.
I raised my hand. “No! That’s not what I meant. He was on the ship with me. He just didn’t come back. But he’s not dead! At least, not yet. He wasn’t dead when we left. Tahnya is with him. And a friend named Jupe. You don’t know him. He’s from, well, not Scarlatti, but he’s a good guy and a fighter and—”
Mom staggered backward, clutching at the banner. My dad reached for her, keeping her upright. “You left Brody? Out there?”
“Not by choice. Trust me. I would never leave him.”
Dad’s jaw thrust forward in an en garde stance. Despite all his joy at seeing me, he couldn’t hide his other emotions. “Oh. We know. We know you took him. He would never have gone with you otherwise.” He jabbed an accusatory finger toward Malani. “Did that metal girl talk you into it?”
I stepped between them, blocking his view, spreading my arms. “Her name’s Malani. We’ve been over this. She’s a friend. Also, we’re together now. Together-together.”
Dad snapped his gaze to Malani. “How do we know you’re not working for them?”
Malani’s wings balled. “I would never—”
I waved my cap in front of my parents. It rippled, forming into a dull dagger. “Look at this! How do you know I’m not working with them?”
Mom gasped. “Your hand!”
Dad’s eyes narrowed, all his confusion and all his despair boiling toward me. “How do we know you’re not? You’ve done stupid things in the past.”
I threw up my arms. “You’ve got to be banging kidding me.”
Mom touched Dad’s arm, trying to calm him down. “You’re upset, Gershom. Can we talk later?”
He frowned, shaking her off. “When else will we? We might be dead by tomorrow.” His finger jammed into my chest. “You haven’t seen what we’ve seen.”
“And you haven’t seen what I’ve seen,” I shouted. “There’s an entire world, an entire galaxy out there. Filled with people and different ways of living.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. This wasn’t what I had planned. This wasn’t how this family reunion should’ve gone. Shouting would get us nowhere. They didn’t understand. And, really, neither did I. Until two mins ago, they had no reason to believe any of their sons were alive. My voice dropped as I gained control. “Do you think Brody would’ve made the same decision to fight here if he had known what was out there?”
Dad growled, every word sharpened into its own little weapon. “We’ll never be able to ask him now, will we?” He twisted, slamming his fist into the underground wall. He didn’t look back as he stalked off, deflated and trailing emotion.
The quiet was louder than the shouting.
On one level, I knew he wasn’t truly furious at me. My dad wasn’t as good at naming emotions as I was. Sometimes he had trouble untangling all the different threads and it all came out as a knot of anger. I just happened to be a convenient target.
I seized the hair at the back of my neck and twisted.
On another level, I was still right pissed.
“Is your father right?” Mom’s tone was tiny and flat. “Will Brody ever come back?”
I hesitated. “I want you to know I believed I was doing the right thing in taking him. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. I’m trying to make it right. I came back to make it right.” I reached out my hand, a silent plea. “I’ll bring Brody back. I promise.”
Mom stared at my open palm. Stared at the lack of hand at the end of the other arm. Stared at all the marks of sacrifice and failure stamped on my body. “I know.” She tucked both my hand and my cap in-between her palms, holding tight. “I am glad Brody wasn’t here. I don’t approve of what you did, but I am glad you did it.” She sucked on her bottom lip as she also tried to reign in her emotions. “I don’t think I could bear losing any more sons.”
My eyes burned, and I had to look away.
Cool fingers touched my cheek. “Now. Will you tell me what’s out there?”
My vision swam with all the stories I collected. Now I was Brandon, the one with all the stories to share. “So much, Mom. So, so much.”
“Hey!” Malani yelled.
I turned around to see three men barreling past her, Cal, and Lewis. Their blasters were the same ink hue as my cap and Malani’s wings. Dark matter guns. Prolly the same ones Chief Malvyn forced Malani to create before I helped her escape. They surrounded me, all three barrels pointing at my chest. I knew these men. Jedd and Peter, from the night we helped Malani at the hospital. The other worked in the orchards with Tahnya and went through basic a couple cycles before me.
Malani’s wings flared, but Cal pushed them away by the flat of the feathers.
My cap rippled.
Mom placed her arm around my shoulders. “Do you need something, gentlemen?”
Jedd stepped forward, giving a wary glance to Malani. “Breaker Gershomson?”
I stepped away from my mom. If this got ugly . . . “You know that’s me. You’re Jedd. We’ve met.” I pointed to Cal. “You know Cal, remember?”
He only prodded me with the gun. “You’re supposed to come with us.”
“Why? Is my welcome home feast starting?”
Jedd almost looked worried as he pointed past me in the direction of the core. “Chief Malvyn wants to speak with you.”
Chapter 7
LUKA
I’d never been truly intimidated in my life. I instinctively knew the other person was made of the same flesh and muscle as me and had less of it. Never pissed the bed. Never cried out for my parents if I was scared, not that they would’ve come if I had. But petrified? Where your limbs locked and refused to obey your commands despite your threats? Felt that only twice.
Once was when a migraine aura first appeared. Didn’t know what the hell was wrong with my vision. Thought my father punched too hard and broke my brain. Without vision, I couldn’t apply for a captaincy. Without vision, I would’ve been stuck in my parents’ apartment till I died.
The second time was now.
Yana hadn’t seen me yet. Her back was to me, standing in line for todia’s rations. The room had been transformed from a bunker to a food station. A slab of thick meat hung over a spit. Next to it stood one of the cattle, ready for butchering. Its four-antlered head swayed in time with the spicy dripping juices sizzling on the coals. One of my rooks manned the station. She hacked a cooked hunk free, wrapped it up, and handed it to Yana.
Yana tucked away the meat, turning aside for the next person in line. She had cut her hair. Hacked it right off. That alone made me pause. Our mother cut her hair like that once, after our father died, to help us mourn. We didn’t.
Did she have another grief? My nephew . . .
Grow a pair or get lost.
My legs refused to walk forward. “Yana,” I called out instead.
Her body stiffened. Slowly, bloody hell so slowly, she readjusted her load, stepped away from the line, and turned around. The front
of her was a rounded mass of rations and blankets.
None of that ‘stroids I’m glad to see you. No. That wasn’t Yana. Her eyes seethed fury. Her lips tugged downward. “You bloody khaim-ass.” She strode toward me with all the force of a hurricane. “You banging promised.”
I took a step back. No, I wasn’t just petrified. I was petrified ‘stroidless. “Yana, I—”
She pounced. Didn’t matter how much she carried, didn’t matter she was heaped with extra weight, she moved like a predator. “You filthy, worthless, piece of ‘stroid. How dare you come back. I saw the ship. You got away, you desking—”
I fisted my mini belt. “Bloody hell, Yana. It was an accident.”
She jabbed out with her elbow, gaining on my backward stepping until she screamed two centis from my face. “You should’ve stayed away. You chose to come back, you piece of worthless—”
“You weren’t there, Yana,” I yelled right back. “It was either Scarlatti or my life.”
She trapped me against the wall. “As though you’ll gain your life here? You walked right into a bloody death trap.”
My hands searched the wall for something to grip. “I broke my promise. I know.”
“Yeah. You did. You bastard.” Her rage had faded and her eyes glimmered. “What’re you looking at?” she snapped at the bystanders. To my surprise, they turned away. Her jaw quivered even as she bit down hard. This time, when she spoke, her voice was softer. “You of all people I should’ve been able to trust.”
Her words surprised me, reminded me of something Malani said. You do crazy ‘stroids for people you love. Like force them to make a khaim-ass promise and keep it, no matter what. I stepped away from her, tugging at my tunic. “Yeah, well, you can’t. So now you gotta live with it.”
She turned away from me. But from this angle, I saw something else. She wasn’t just carrying rations and blankets in her arms.
I pointed to the bundle. “Is that?” My legs weren’t quite as reliable as before. I glanced behind me to make sure someone hadn’t kicked out my legs, but the wall was still at my back. My nephew. He wasn’t dead.
Yana immediately brightened. Any other anger vanished. She set down her rations, peeled open the biggest bundle, and swung it to me with joy. “Meet LuLu!”
“Lewis? You named him after Lewis?”
“Not Lewis. LuLu.”
I looked down at the bundle. At the still slightly squashed face, closed eyes, soft brown skin, and the obnoxious pink ribbon tied around its head.
I would have been less shocked if I’d been electrocuted. “It’s a girl?”
Yana’s eyes flashed. She turned the baby’s head away from me, cradling the bow protectively. “What do you mean, it’s a girl?”
“I mean, he’s not a nephew. He’s a niece. You said he was a boy.” I reached toward my pocket and unhooked the dagger. Held it out for her inspection. “I brought him another dagger. Nice quality too. Metal’s from an asteroid mine or some ‘stroids.”
“Are you saying my daughter isn’t worthy of having something of nice quality?”
“No, I’m saying—”
“Are you saying my daughter can’t have a dagger?”
“No, plenty of girls have daggers. I’m saying—”
Rage burned beneath her words. “The only thing you should be saying is how bloody lucky you are to have such a perfect niece who is worth ten of your sorry ass.”
I looked at the pink bow. Readjusted my semi and auto-rifle. “I’m bloody lucky to have such a perfect niece.”
“Who?”
“Who is worth ten of my sorry ass.”
“There you go.” She handed the bundle over. “Now appreciate LuLu like the queen she is.”
I shifted the form in my arms. She was so bloody light. If I flexed, I could crush her head in the crook of my arm. She dozed, not noticing I held her. How could someone like Yana make something as fragile as this? Must be Mateo’s influence.
“I can’t believe you named her LuLu,” I said.
“Mateo insisted. Thinks you’re gonna be a good uncle or something.”
“So he’s alive?”
Yana cuffed me. “Don’t sound so disappointed. He’s finishing up cooking duty in the back.”
“I wasn’t disappointed. Just surprised.”
Yana bristled. “There’s more to life than being able to hit the wide-side of an apartment building.”
“Not when people’s lives are counting on you to do so.”
She thumbed over her shoulder toward the spit. “His doing. He’s the reason why we haven’t starved yet. Risked his life to go out and bring in the lost cattle. So shut up and admire your niece.”
I obediently opened the wrapping farther and peered inside.
Well. LuLu wasn’t the most ugly baby I’d seen, but she was definitely up there.
I poked at her cheeks. Her fingers gripped my pinky in a sudden seize. She squeezed like she was one of us, unwilling to let go of life. Hold on, little girlie, hold on. I nodded stiffly. “She’ll do.” I plucked my pinky free and held the handle of the dagger to her. “Want your present?”
Yana snatched the dagger from me. “Not until she has her blade safety classes.”
I looked back down at the sleeping bundle. LuLu would have those safety classes, if I had any say. She would live a long enough life to piss me off into an early grave.
Yana examined the blade. Bit it. “You weren’t lying. Nice quality. Pity it’s not Elik-made.”
“Why?”
She belted the knife, slightly out of reach. If she needed a weapon fast, the dagger would not be easy to access. “None of our weapons work against the Extrats. Not even the dark matter guns slow them down. The only thing that seems to work are the Elik spears and knives.”
“My minis work fine against them,” I said.
“You fought the Extrats? On your way in?”
“No,” I said. Yana blinked with surprise. “It’s a long story. I’ll catch you up later.”
“All right. How’s the migraines?”
My lips twisted to the side. Talking about them was only asking for one to hit. “Tolerable.” In reality, they hung like a stone around my neck, never quite letting me put the burden down. The two I had on the ship on the way here weren’t near as bad as the one on the TriRing, but I wasn’t going to press my luck by talking about it. My eyes flicked back and forth as I did a quick scan of my vision, looking for any speckled light patterns or missing patches. None. I lifted the bundle to indicate LuLu. “We might have a way to save her, you know.”
Yana’s full attention snapped to me. “How?”
I opened my mouth—
“Tribunal to be held in the core,” a voice said. An old woman from the war council leaned inside the bunker. Her scratchy voice echoed. “To be held immediately. Spread the word. By order of Chief Malvyn.”
The name lit a burning coal. I imagined his neck in my grasp. His insides spilling over my shoes. My grip around LuLu tightened. Yana took her from me, handing over the rations instead.
The rations crunched in my arms. Last time, my shot missed. This time, it wouldn’t.
“More talks?” she said way too loud. “Why doesn’t he do something instead? Isn’t that what a leader is for?” Those around her grumbled with approval.
“You got that right, Yana,” someone said.
“How is that sonnabitch still alive?” I whispered, following Yana out of the room and toward the core. Behind us, people continued to hiss their disapproval. “Does Mateo know?” My eyes flicked to LuLu.
“Of course.”
“And he did nothing?”
“He did what I asked.”
I halted, forcing Yana to stop with me. I pulled her aside into a l
ittle alcove. I was surprised to see how much taller than her I actually was. She was always a giant in my mind. “Why didn’t you kill him in the chaos? You could’ve gotten away with it.”
“Like we did last time?” Yana shook her head. Paused as a group passed us. She lowered her voice even farther. “This is different. You weren’t here, Luka. You don’t know what’s been happening. You don’t know what I’ve been doing. And I have the right to dictate how I want to handle this. Not you.”
I growled. I wanted to argue, to push back. But if I did, I might not ever see LuLu’s ridiculous bow again. I bit back my response, like I did time and time again with Breaker on the ship. I poked at LuLu instead.
I still hadn’t asked the question: Do you know who LuLu’s father is?
LuLu stirred, and something almost like warmth moved in my chest. Maybe Yana did know. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe I didn’t need to know ‘cause LuLu was here now and she was Yana’s and nothing would change that and maybe the bow wasn’t quite as ridiculous as I first thought.
Still didn’t get rid of the itch to introduce Mateo’s face to the underground wall. And to do so much worse to the Chief.
Yana read me. Her arm flung out, trapping me inside the alcove. “You do nothing. You say nothing. You think nothing until I tell you to. And when you see Mateo, you treat him like a hero. Got it?”
I grumbled.
Her eyes narrowed. Her hand lowered, straying dangerously to the new dagger. “What was that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I said fine.”
Chapter 8
BREAKER
The core of the underground was built to be a bunker. Most of the hallways eventually funneled here, with great doors that could bolt and beds carved into the walls. The core clearly had taken damage. Cracks sprinted along the walls like engraved lightning streaks. A couple tunnels were permanently sealed shut from collapse, which only hinted at how much the compound had gone through. By the repurposed beams propped to hold the ceiling, there wasn’t much faith that the core would hold out much longer.
